Defying Gravity
by Amme Moto
Summary: Connan remembers. She's seen her crew before. And NOT as Connan. Finished!
1. The Jedi

**Title: Defying Gravity**

**Author: Amme Moto—in the middle of **_**school**_**!!**

**Date/Time Started: 12/20/07 2:39 P.M. Central Time**

**Summary: Connan remembers. She's met her crew before. And **_**not **_**as Connan.**

**Author's Notes: Just ten or so chapters I'm writing while at school. It goes through Connan Frai as Revan, and she eventually meets each and every crew member in turn. Each chapter ends with an epilogue with Connan being herself and not Revan. It's just to keep me occupied while at school.**

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**Chapter One: The Jedi**

She smoothed out her favorite robes—the one's she'd made herself, as a matter of fact—and glanced up at her friends. She could have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious. She took another deep breath and spoke again.

"I realize that what I'm saying goes against everything we've ever been taught." She continued. "And I know I'm asking something of you that _most _of you won't give."

She took a moment to glance beside her, at Malak, who was standing with his hands behind his back. His spine was completely straight and he had a set look on his face, his teeth grinding together.

"But the people _I_ want will not be as closed-minded as the Jedi Council. The people who will stand up and protect our Republic in its time of need will come with us, and they'll come _now_." She once again took another pause, taking in the reactions of the people in front of her. They were all invariantly her friends; people she'd worked with and laughed with. Now she would see if they were really all that chalked up that they claimed to be.

"I don't _want _to defy the Jedi Council, anymore than you people do." Another lie, of course. She'd figured out long ago from her first Master that there were faulty teachings in the Jedi; teachings that would make them out to be hypocrites and cause their very word to become a paradox. It was true that she didn't want to _hurt _the Jedi, but it was also a lie that she didn't want to _defy _them. She had been itching for an excuse for years, really. "But they sit here and wait in their passionless serenity, thinking that all is calm with the galaxy, while our brave soldiers go out and _die _daily for the right for us to sit here and _think_!"

Apparently that had been the right thing to say. She'd always been a bit of a diplomat. It was something that Malak could never beat her in, aside from everything else in the world. Instantly another thought came to her mind.

"Who here has lost a loved one thanks to the war? Who here has a mother, a father, a sibling, an aunt or an uncle, a niece, a nephew?" That worked. A few hands rose. "Are you just going to sit here and wait for the Jedi Council to think about starting to meditate on what to do about the subject? Are you just going to lie down with your bellies up, waiting for _nothing _to happen? For I tell you, by the time the Jedi Council decides what to do, we'll be dead or speaking Mandalorian."

"She's right!" Called a voice. She recognized it instantly and smiled. Donella to the rescue, as usual. "I lost a sister just last week!"

Donella pushed her way to the front, brushing her long blonde hair out of her eyes.

"Well, there's one of my faithful." She joked. Donella smirked, turning to face the growing crowd of Jedi.

"Listen, friends! She's right. Revan's right." She glanced at Revan expectantly. "There's only one way the Republic is going to win. And _this _is it! We _must _join the battle."

Revan nodded. She glanced at Malak, mentally pushing him toward the door. It was time to leave.

"Those of us who are willing to defy the Council to save our Republic, to protect our homes, and to save our way of life, will meet with either Donella, Malak or I before we set out." She bowed deeply. "Those of you who are coming, set out with a mission bag and meet us at the Jedi Docks in three days' time." She glanced around one last time and summoned her most powerful, most awe-striking voice. "In three days, we leave for Dxun!"

A cry rose up, starting from the back of the now very large crowd, and rippled up to the front. As Revan, Donella and Malak left, Malak wrapped an arm around Revan's waist.

"That's for you, love." He whispered.

She nodded. She knew they loved her speaking abilities. She could force a rancor to kill its young with that kind of voice, and it would do it without a backwards glance.

"They'll come," Donella encouraged.

--

Revan stretched. She was tired.

After all, she'd spent the last few days packing for the trip. She had to plan to leave without the Jedi Council knowing, and to do that, she had to talk a few of the Jedi Dock managers onto their side, so they wouldn't inform the Council of what they were doing.

She'd also had to get a count of everyone planning to leave with her. The number was surprisingly high. Donella had apparently been able to talk to a few people unbeknownst to the Council—or Kavar, who seemed to be spending more and more time with the blonde—and had rallied more to their cause. Now more than half of the Jedi in the Coruscant Jedi Academy were planning on coming with them, and the Jedi Council had no clue.

Or if they had a clue, they didn't let on.

Maybe they simply thought it was an empty rumor; that there was no value behind it and no one would pursue it. Maybe they figured that Revan would come to her senses and cancel the trip before the left.

They were wrong.

Revan cinched up her bag before throwing it around her shoulder and turning to leave the small room. Her roommate would be home, soon, and then she'd have to—

"Revan!"

Yeah, that was her.

Revan shrugged helplessly, sitting back down and preparing for another argument. For someone so "in tune" with the Force, she sure could get her riled up.

"You'll never _believe _what Malak just tried to talk me into doing!" Her roommate raved, throwing her hands about and pacing the room, as she often did. Revan was half-amazed she hadn't pulled all of her brown hair out, or that she hadn't dug a hole in the floor with her pacing.

"I bet I will," Revan shrugged. "But I have no doubt you're going to tell me anyway,"

Her roommate went on as if she hadn't heard her.

"Malak just came up to a group of us while we were _studying_—" By now Revan had learned that it was a _severe _offense to bother her roommate while she was studying. Or meditating. Or eating. Or sleeping. "—And tries to talk us into coming with him to join the war!"

Revan held back a sputter. She'd _warned _dear Malak not to let her roommate in on the secret. The Council was _sure _to find out now.

"Bastila—"

"No, no," Bastila shook a finger. "I'm not finished yet. I'm _worried _about him, Revan. The way he's talking, defying the Jedi Council, and the lies he's told…."

"Lies?" Revan raised an eyebrow, pulling her hair up and pinioning it with a band. "What sort of lies?" She didn't recall allowing lovely Malak to lie to get people to come. The whole basis of their entrance into the war was for truth, after all, and if they lied to get the truth, they'd be no better than the Sith.

Somehow, that thought did not chill her as it used to.

"He said—" Bastila stopped to take a deep breath before continuing. "He said that _you _were leading the rebel Jedi to go and fight in the war. _Tomorrow._"

Revan knew Bastila. She knew that Bastila expected her to laugh in disbelief, slap her hands to her knees and deny it completely. She knew that's what she wanted.

She also knew not to look at Bastila's face when her best friend realized the truth of the matter was that Revan had _in fact _been the one to organize and put together the whole ordeal.

"I—you—" And now Bastila would have a look of innocent confusion on her face, and Revan hid her eyes behind the new gloves which laced her hands. "He wasn't—he wasn't telling the _truth_, was he?"

Revan finally looked back up, her hands now placed firmly on her mouth. She locked her eyes to Bastila's, opening herself up to her dearest and most treasured friend.

"Revan!" Bastila's tone was now one of a shocked whisper, as if she were aghast simply _thinking _of something horrible. "You can't be. You know what the rules are. You've been pushing them enough already; what are the Council Members going to think if you and a bunch of others rush off to the war and become ensnared in the death and the Dark Side?"

Revan shrugged again. As long as Bastila knew she was leaving, it really didn't matter if she tried to talk to her about it. Maybe she could even talk her into coming. _That _would be a great accomplishment.

"Bastila," Revan stood, making her way to the desk which occupied her side of the room and opening a drawer. "Do you remember the trip to Tralus that Kreia and I took a few months ago with that team of Jedi?"

"The one where you were to stop the war and slavery? Yes, I remember." Bastila snapped. "But what's that got to do with—"

"The Mandalorians attacked the world next to us, and we didn't hear a thing." Revan interrupted. "We were five hours away if we flew at high speed, and we never even got word that something was wrong."

"Is that why you're so upset about the war?" Bastila seemed to sigh of relief. "Revan, bad things happen in war. That doesn't mean the Jedi must—"

"—Kreia was the only one to feel the death until we flew into the region." Revan continued, still ignoring Bastila's interruptions. "When I asked her about it, she gave me the hard way to find out, as usual." Revan had to stop and smile at the memory of her old Master. "I sat and I _meditated_, if you can believe that. For a few hours we didn't move. A group of our team was sent in a shuttle to go check out the planet and see what the damage was. For a few hours, I couldn't see what masked the death so completely.

"Then I saw it. It was a small, red line in the galaxy, leading farther and farther into Mandalorian space." She crossed her legs and leaned onto the table. "I stole one of your _many _datapads concerning Sight colors, and as it turns out—big surprise and all—red means the Dark Side.

"So what was _I _to think? Things like that didn't come along every day. And Mandalorians—harsh though they may be—aren't really a Dark Sided people. So _what _could this mean?"

Revan stopped for a moment to ponder on Bastila's expression. It was a calculating one, a face that Revan could only assume had been acquired from Bastila's long hours spent with Revan.

"There's something behind the Mandalorians." Revan said bluntly. She could hear Bastila hold back a sharp squeak. "I don't know if it was the luck of the draw for them, or if they instigated the fight, but it's waiting for the Mandalorians to finish their fight with the Republic so it can come clean up."

She could see Bastila shaking a little bit.

"I'm simply going to stop it." Revan stated. "Whatever is behind the Mandalorians won't come out until the war is over, so I'm going to end the war. Then when I figure out what Sith faction is threatening my Republic, I'm going to take them out, any way I possibly can."

"There's Dark Side thinking behind that," Bastila said darkly. Revan shrugged, pulling the second strap of the bag over her shoulders.

"Maybe." She admitted. "One can never really say for sure, what's Dark Side and isn't, until one finds the right motives. And I assure you, my motives are strictly in line with those of the Republic."

"But not those of the Light Side," Bastila backed up, as if she was a bit repulsed to be in the same room. The action hurt Revan slightly, though she didn't show it.

"One can be Light Side to do evil," Revan pointed out. "Just as one can be Dark Side to do good." She glanced at Bastila and silently pleaded with her. "_Please _remember that."

She hugged a hesitant Bastila in her arms and turned to leave.

"Where are you going to go?" Bastila asked. "The Jedi will never accept you back if you leave."

Revan shrugged.

"If I'm going to be an outcast forever, I might as well go out in style." She said. "I'm going to Dxun, where the Mandalorian Wars started. I'm going to take back Onderon with a three day battle, and after that, we'll head for Cathar."

She left.

--

Revan growled, placing her mask back on, making sure it was fastened dutifully so it wouldn't come off and reveal her. To see through her mask at a time like this would be similar to throwing a gizka into a sea of firaxa sharks.

She was alone, now.

Not that it wasn't how she'd planned it, in the end. With the simple exception of Malak also falling to the Dark Side, Revan had foreseen all the reactions from the Jedi and her followers.

After the end of the war, Revan had stated that they were going into the Unknown Regions. She'd told them all of her findings of Sith remnants, and they were to check it out. They had followed her, all except a few. Revan made sure to tell her troops that they were free to leave right after the war; a promise she held to as she counted their new ranks.

Only a few had left; Donella Segora among them.

Revan had been sorry to see the woman go. True, she'd lost all affinity to the Force, but that didn't mean it wouldn't come back. Revan had been the one to save her, forming a protective field around the struck-blind woman to stop the wave of death from killing her.

But she held up the prerogatives and wishes of the others. She let them go. She also gave them food and supplies until they could reach an inhabited planet to try and find a new life. They all knew that the Jedi would no longer accept them back into their ranks, so they had to pick out new lives.

After finding the Sith threat that the Republic now faced, Malak and Revan decided that the only way to combat this threat was to strengthen the Republic. But how do you strengthen something that thinks it is safe?

By giving it something to worry about.

After much deliberation, they decided to fall. Or, at least fake falling. All they would need to do was kill a few Senators that would hinder the Republic and look like a menace to society, picking battles that would strengthen the Republic more than weaken.

But now Revan was alone.

It was an unexpected twist that Malak would actually fall, despite her constant presence and assurance. When the moment came that she realized she was a lone Jedi in a sea of Sith, she took on her menacing mask and cloak to hide her appearance.

A huge quake broke Revan from her thoughts, and she shook her head roughly.

"Malak," She called into her comm. link. "You have to get out of here. They're already in my ship and have taken everyone down. Johns and Fumin have either left their stations or been killed."

"**I'm not leaving without you." **Came the answer mechanically. Revan cringed. She _still _wasn't used to the monotone voice that resounded from Malak's new jaw.

"You have to. Take your ship, turn around, and while you're leaving, fire at the hangar. Make sure they can't escape from here."

"**But—"**

"_Do it!!"_

The comm. link clicked off suddenly, and Revan knew she was being obeyed.

Just at that moment, the door opened. Jedi after Jedi piled in, one after the other. Revan counted seven in all.

Bastila at the head.

Revan growled again, calling her lightsabers to her hands. Three Jedi advanced. She closed their windpipes, causing them to choke. She monitored their conditions carefully, and at the moment when life would be undetectable but not lost, she let them loose.

Killing was something she reserved for Sith.

"You cannot win, Revan." Bastila pointed. There was pain behind the voice. Revan could hear it. She cringed; glad she had a mask to hide behind.

"You obviously don't remember what I told you the day I left, Billa." Revan used the nickname on purpose. Bastila blinked, trying to recall a day so far gone it seemed like it never happened.

"What are you talking about?" Revan laughed sadly. She whirled her lightsabers through the air and held them out protectively.

"One can be Dark Side to do good." Revan stated.

The world exploded. A huge, searing pain pierced through her mind, her body, her soul. She fell to the ground, willing herself at all costs to keep consciousness.

_The idiot_, she thought. _He __**missed**_**.**

She could feel someone turn her over. The same someone checked her pulse for a sign of life. She hoped there wouldn't be one. She was losing perception quickly. If someone were to keep her alive, her mind might not be able to handle it and she'd lose—

_She'd lose her memories._

The universe around her closed in. It compressed onto her ribcage, seeping into her lungs, puncturing holes and causing her to lose air. Insuppressible _terror _lodged in her chest as she realized what this was going to cost. The fear trickled down her chest and settled into her stomach, and in her paralyzed outward state she threw up.

The fear engulfed her.

She fought. She mentally kicked and screamed and shouted very un-Jedi-like things and cursed and tried her hardest to break free. It took a few moments for her to realize that her chances were slim of getting loose. So she did the only thing left.

She mentally took a deep, calming breath. She could feel the panic that had swallowed her up previously ebbing from her consciousness. To do this she would need to be in a total state of stillness.

She bottled up the memories herself.

True, it wouldn't be very pleasant trying to open them again, and she was already apologizing to whomever she would turn into when the Jedi Council fixed her with another identity—for that was _sure _to be their choice of action; _no one _would let the chance to have the Dark Lord work for them pass by—and promising them that everything would be all right and not to mess anything up.

It would take a while, but she _would _win. Revan was going to return, whether as herself or as someone else, but she _would _find the Sith who were threatening her Republic, and she _would _bring them down. She knew that in her heart and soul.

Then she knew nothing.

--

Connan gasped, breathing sharply and rubbing her eyes vigorously. That was a _long _memory. Or cluster of memories, more like. Her eyes had been watering in her attempts to keep them open. She stamped her feet on the ground where she sat in her side of the ship, trying to keep them awake.

They answered many unanswered questions, though, so the price of her eyes was a small one to pay, really. Among other things, she found it slightly funny that she could see herself apologize to her future self for any grief or hard times caused. It made her smile, like she was looking at an old friend.

"Well, you're in a good mood," The voice startled her. Connan's head jerked up, watching Bastila stroll into the room with her head held high. Connan frowned for a moment. "What's wrong?"

"I had another memory," Connan blinked a few times, trying to find the means to water her eyes. "It started about twenty minutes ago."

Bastila was at her side in an instant, an eye solution taken from the cabinet and in her hands the same moment she touched the ground. She pulled Connan's head back and told her to keep her eyes open. Connan cringed.

"I don't like the eye drops," she whined. "They're evil."

"But they'll do you good." Bastila's eyes glazed for a moment. "You obviously have forgotten what you told me the day you left."

A strange light flashed through Connan's eyes; one not completely missed by Bastila. The latter cocked her head to one side, frowning.

"Of course I haven't, _Billa_." Connan hinted. She saw Bastila's eyes widen in shock. "One can be Dark Side to do good."

Bastila sat back on her haunches, her eyes closed and her arms hanging limp beside her. She took in a deep breath; much like the one Connan had seen herself taking moments before she locked away her own memories.

"When did you remember?" Bastila asked quietly.

"Just now." Connan answered. "The whole thing seemed to be about you, actually."

Bastila sighed, opening one eye.

"I don't suppose you'd tell me about them?"

Connan was on her feet in an instant, her hand thrown in the air.

"Not until you catch me." She taunted, yanking the cargo door open and bolting for the exit ramp.

Bastila followed immediately, laughing drolly.

"You cannot win, Revan." She droned, laughing at the irony loaded into the statement.

Connan laughed herself as she escaped into the calming realm of Manaan around her, but not so much at the irony as Bastila making a joke. She grasped onto a light pole, throwing her weight around it to sharply turn a corner unexpectedly and sprinted down yet another passage way.

_Oh, but I _will _win._

--

**Date/Time Finished: 1/9/08 2:28 P.M. Central Time**

**End Notes: HAPPY LATE NEW YEAR!! For the record, this did NOT take three weeks to finish. I finished it in three days. There was a two week holiday in between and I started it on a Friday.**

**Lol. So thanks for reading, guys. This will be my school project while I'm waiting for my B.C.I.S. class to catch up with me. Phth. Like **_**that'll **_**ever happen.**

**So please review!!**

_**Amme Moto**_


	2. The Soldier

**Date/Time Started: 1/9/08 2:30 P.M. Central Time**

**Author's Notes: Yes, I started this one two minutes after I finished the last. Let's see how long it takes me to finish **_**this **_**one!**

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**Chapter Two: The Soldier**

For the record, it _wasn't _her fault.

It was all Malak's fault, she knew. If she hadn't been so sick of all the battle plans she poured out because _he _had no knack for warfare, she wouldn't have wandered off in the first place. She needed a break, and she hadn't taken her two-hour break for the day, so she signed out and took off.

If he was smart enough to make his _own _battle plans, she wouldn't have used the break until later, therefore eliminating this from ever happening.

It wasn't her fault she was lost. There were many fleets and Republic armadas stationed on Suurja at this point, and she ended up not being able to tell one from another without a general—_maybe _a captain—announced to identify with.

At least she'd been smart enough to take off her tell-tale helmet—more like a mask, really—before she left. Anyone could tell who she was just my looking at that mask. While it did come in handy for intimidating prisoners with the blood-like stains flooding down it and shielding any facial injuries during battle, it was something of a trademark mask, one that only Revan would choose to wear.

So, therefore, Revan had simply left it.

Revan hadn't realized that she was inside her mind while walking again, and after a moment she collided into someone.

"Whoa, watch it, soldier!" The slightly agitated voice grasped her arm to keep her from falling. In an instant it retracted. "Oh, you're a—what's a Jedi doing _here_?"

But maybe it would have been a slightly better idea to steal the scoundrel uniform she'd packed with her for undercover work. Being caught as a Jedi wouldn't be much better than being caught as Revan.

Revan took a moment to look over who she'd crashed into. The man straightened his ugly orange jacket and smoothed his chocolate brown hair. He looked apologetically at Revan.

"I'm sorry," He held his large, calloused hand out for her to shake. "I didn't mean to be so gruff." Revan shrugged.

"It's all right," She accepted. The man began walking off. Revan, with nothing much better to do, followed.

"What are you doing?" She asked him.

"I'm on break right now, Master Jedi. I'm heading to the make-shift cantina." The man explained. Revan beamed.

"Great! I'll go with you." The man stopped walking and turned to Revan, who crossed her arms and set her hazel eyes straight into the man's auburn.

"Forgive my audacity, Master Jedi, but why are you here?"

Revan shrugged again.

"I'm here because I'm not _there_." She answered cryptically. The man frowned, pulling back slightly.

"I guess so," He cocked an eyebrow. "But that's not the answer I was expecting."

"Well you never know," She winked at him. "Maybe I'm here because I'm secretly hiding from Malak and I got lost."

The man barked out an incredulous laugh, holding a hand to his stomach as he leaned backwards.

"Right, and I'm Revan."

Revan blinked for a moment before remembering that no one here knew her face. She blinked again, and then burst into outright laughter.

"Oh, you're funny!" She bade him to keep walking. "What's your name?"

The man stared at her for a few moments before continuing his walk toward the makeshift cantina; Revan following a few steps behind him.

"My name is Carth Onasi."

Revan cocked an eyebrow before replying. "Captain Onasi? From the Telos fleet?"

"Correct."

Well, it was a half-good thing. The Telos fleet was stationed two or three fleets away from where she was supposed to be, so by the time Malak figures out that she's late coming back from her break, it'll take him a little while to get to her. That way she could have a few spirits with her troops and get to know them a little bit.

She liked Telos in itself, anyway. It was a nice, tranquil planet. And it was one she wasn't willing to sacrifice, no matter now many others she had to abandon to win the war. There was something about that planet that made her want to leave it untouched.

But this could also be a bad thing. After all, Admiral Saul Karath was leader over the Telos fleet with them. The Admiral had been a sort of suck-up to her and Malak from the start, thinking they would give him more power and wealth if he was more helpful than any other Admiral. He had spent many long nights in Revan and Malak's personal quarters, and he had seen Revan many times with her mask off. Even if she had put on a different set of Jedi Robes (which she could now admit, a few months after leaving the Jedi behind, that she needed to make a new pair) and changed her eye color, the man would still recognize her.

And report her to Malak, who would find her before she drank her first alcoholic drink.

Still, Revan had often said that life in general wouldn't be very fun if she didn't take risks sometimes.

"Well?" She caught up with the still-walking Carth Onasi as she saw she'd fallen behind. "Let's get some drinks, huh?"

--

When he said a makeshift cantina, Carth meant it.

It was a tent, basically. A rather huge tent that peaked in the middle at about fifty meters and spanned the width of a ship. All the Telos soldiers that were off duty at the moment collected in and around the tent, consuming alcohol and any kind of food the cooks in the back could come up with.

The Captain led Revan up to the bar and took a seat, making sure there was an empty space beside it for Revan to sit in. When she was seated, Carth stared at her with an eyebrow raised.

"You were really serious about coming here." It wasn't a question. It was a shocked observation. It made Revan laugh.

"I was _very _serious about following you here," She answered. "Since I'm lost, I kind of have no where else to go until Malak finds me."

He took it as a prolonged joke, Revan realized as he barked out another laugh. She grinned as well, highly amused.

The bartender approached them, and it took him a moment to recognize the robes Revan was wearing. He blanched, his eyes widening.

"You're a—"

"I know I am," Revan interrupted.

"What are you doing here, in this dirty old place?" The bartender spoke in a whisper.

"Would you believe she got lost?" Carth joked. "That's all she'll tell me."

"Is Revan doing another inspection?" The bartender asked. "She usually sends word before officials."

Revan shook her head. "No inspection. I'm here because I'm bored and I want to drink."

The bartender seemed to still not believe her, because he stared at her for several moments. Revan stared back laughingly, smirking as a bead of sweat appeared on the bartender's brow.

"We'll just have two jumas," Carth broke their concentration, holding an index finger in the air. "To start with."

The bartender nodded and left.

"So tell me really," Carth said after the bartender disappeared to find their drinks. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know why you won't believe my story," Revan insisted, folding her fingers together and laying her arms on the bar.

"Because it's so strange," Carth replied. "A _Jedi,_ getting lost? It just doesn't sound very natural for a Jedi."

"Nonsense!" Revan turned to the captain, looking quite aghast. "Jedi get lost all the time!"

"Do they?" Carth raised an eyebrow again.

"Of course! Haven't you ever heard of Master Keiran Halcyon?" Revan asked loudly. Many people turned to watch Revan. Carth shook his head. "He was the one who pushed back the Afarathu pirates from the Corellian System."

"What about him?" A guy behind Carth asked, sidling up to the pair.

"He was lost." Revan stated matter-of-factly. A collective gasp played throughout the cantina.

"Are you serious?"

"I am," Revan nodded. "You see, Master Halcyon was _supposed _to be traveling from Corellia to Talus, but got lost along the way and ended up landing on _Tralus _instead. And as anyone with a sense of direction knows, Talus and Tralus are on different sides of Corellia. Master Halcyon was very put-out when he discovered his mistake.

"Anyway, he was in the process of turning back to Corellia to make his way around to Talus when the Afarathu attacked. And since he had a brand-new lightsaber, a tank full of fuel, and a team of restless fighters, he led and won the battle to push them back."

"How do you know that?" Someone in the crowd yelled.

"Well, Jedi back then didn't realize the uses of _summarizing_." Revan explained. "When he told his superiors about the battle, he also mentioned that he was there because he'd gotten himself lost in the first place. I simply found the holorecord with him on it and played it."

"No way!" The cantina started in rounds of laughter, echoing enough to reach outside the tent.

"Unbelievable." Carth murmured. Revan grinned widely, nodding.

"It's true. The truth about Jedi? They're not as suave and collected as they like people to think they are." Revan leaned back, crossing her arms and smirking. "I've got a million stories you would probably never hear from anyone else."

"Tell us!"

And the stories began.

--

Two or three hours later, Revan had finally talked so much that her throat ultimately closed up on her, and she began getting hoarse.

"All right," Carth called through the cantina, which had strangely filled up and poured outside without the last few hours. "She's had enough. Back to your stations, men."

The soldiers grumbled loudly as they either turned and started drinking again or went back to their duties. Revan laughed, sipping another glass of juma juice.

"That was fun," She rasped. "I haven't talked that much since my last speech."

"Do the Jedi not like it when you tell things that degrade them?" Carth asked. Revan shrugged.

"They don't, but they deserve a little degradation, don't you think?" She flicked her eyes in Carth's direction before placing them back on her juma. "After practically abandoning the Republic for dead because they think there's something behind the war." Revan sputtered. "Of _course _something's behind the war!"

"Why would the Jedi leave us for dead if there's something behind the war?" Carth asked. Revan sneered.

"Because they're cowards. They think getting involved in this war will lead us to the Dark Side and we'll hinder the Republic more." She confessed.

"Well…." Carth half-shrugged. Revan now cocked an eyebrow.

"What?" She asked. Carth held a hand up, shaking his head. "No, really. What is it?"

"Well," Carth swallowed cautiously. "Revan's been making some pretty harsh moves lately. Not that they aren't helpful, and not that they don't get us farther and farther toward defeating the Mandalorians, but they're pretty callous moves. We've abandoned three worlds so far because Revan and Malak didn't deem them 'worth saving'."

Revan frowned. When had she said that _that _was the reason for abandonment?

"Are you sure that's the reason?" She asked.

"That's what Admiral Karath told me." Revan laughed coldly.

"Forgive me, but Saul Karath is an idiot." She explained, ignoring Carth's offended and stunned look. "He hears one thing and thinks another. Then he proceeds to tell his troops exactly what he _thinks, _not what he _hears_, and it gets us in trouble."

Revan took a drink of the juma juice, staring off into space in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Carth as he compiled what she said into his mind and hacked through it.

"But he's still one of your most trusted Admirals," He said, almost to the side. Revan nodded.

"Yes, because he gets the job done."

"So why is Revan abandoning so many planets?"

Revan was silent for a long time. She finished off her glass of juma and the bartender came to refill it. She smacked her lips, satisfied with the amount of alcohol she had in her. It wasn't too much to make her actually drunk and make stupid moves, but enough to make her senses a little cloudy. Finally, she'd chosen her words as wisely as the alcohol would let her and she spoke.

"It's…." She frowned, licking her lips to gain moisture. "It's not exactly _abandoning _worlds. Those few worlds are weak—not in the bad sense," She stopped and held a hand up in her defense. "But they are in fact very weak, and defending them would waste more resources than we have to give."

"Yes, that's what the Admiral told us," Carth prodded. "But there has to be another reason behind it. My men and I don't feel very proud of ourselves—as proud as we _should _be, really—when we leave the unprotected and vulnerable worlds alone."

"Captain, I wonder if you're familiar with the saying 'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.'" Revan asked, folding her hands together and squeezing them. Carth shook his head. "It basically means that you can know everything about your friends, but you have to know _more _about your enemies."

"What does that have to do with leaving worlds vulnerable?" Carth asked incredulously, rearing backwards slightly. Revan shook her head.

"The Mandalorians want to take over worlds of the Republic that will anger us into attacking them," Revan explained at long last. "If we give up certain worlds and seemingly leave them for dead, they won't bother with them. They'll think that if we don't think the world is worth our time, we won't come to their aid and fight if they invade. So they bypass that world and head on."

"What?" He stammered. "That can't be right. That kind of thinking…. That's _not _normal thinking!"

"No, it isn't." Revan admitted, shaking her head sadly and shrugging. "Unfortunately, it's Sith thinking."

Revan took a moment to graze over the tip of Carth's mind; close enough to read emotions but not close enough to be noticed. He was panicked, and that was expected. The word "Sith" caused many people in the galaxy to rethink their situations and second-guess their friends.

"Did you say 'Sith'?" He asked, almost reaching for his blaster. Revan shrugged.

"You didn't think that the Mandalorians staged the whole attack by themselves, did you?" She asked, glancing over at him while taking another sip of the alcohol. "Not that it wasn't in their capacity to do so; it just never would have occurred to them to take on the whole Republic to gain glory if someone hadn't had influence with them and suggested it in the first place." She cracked her knuckles. "I hate to say it, but it looks like Mandalore the Ultimate has been duped."

Revan knew she was treading in dangerous waters. Simple captains in the army shouldn't have to know the intricate battle strategies and problems that the generals, admirals, and overall leaders have to deal with. But she couldn't _not _answer the questions. Something about this man's innocent features made her ability to lie nullify itself, and her attempts to hide the gory details become nonexistent.

"So what are we going to do?" Carth asked quietly. "I'll do anything I can to help the Republic. _Anything_."

_No, _Revan thought miserably. _You won't._

She knew he wouldn't take the sacrifices Revan was discovering she was going to have to take. He was too good for it, she could tell. Even just skimming the brim of his thoughts, she could sense the pure whiteness of his essence, and had to restrain herself from trying to bask in it.

Still, it was a nice gesture all the same. Not even most of the Jedi knew what kind of trouble they were heading into. No doubt they would all try to leave once they found out, but by that time Revan and Malak hoped to find the Sith threat and destroy it, so a lack of followers would mean nothing. However, this man knew the whole story now. He knew that the Sith were lying behind the Mandalorians, no doubt waiting for the war to end so they can come in and clean up. Still he was asking to help in any way he could.

It deserved some recognition.

But Revan also knew that there was little a captain could do for himself or his troops. It would take an Admiral to create a big enough following to help, and a powerful one at that.

"There's nothing you can do _now_," She started, closing her eyes and firmly ignoring the extremely disappointed look on Carth's face. "But later…."

"Yes?" Carth asked at the pause, trying to prod Revan into an answer.

Revan had her eyes closed still. She relaxed her mind and opened her Force Sight into the future. She already knew some of the things that would happen in vague outlines: a life-changing tactic, a grand explosion, and a new life were three things she'd already seen, though for the life of her she couldn't figure out what any of them meant.

But she wasn't searching for herself, or the Republic. This time, she was searching through Carth's future.

"I see…." She concentrated harder on the visions in her mind, forming them into sensible blurred outlines. Carth, obviously catching on to what she was attempting, shut his mouth and visibly relaxed beside her, determined not to scare her or break her meditation.

"I see a ship. A Hammerhead–class cruiser. It's exploding over a planet." Revan frowned. Visions weren't usually this eager to speak to her. Typically she had to coax them out, speak to them mentally and encourage them to come to her. These visions were running towards her, as if she had her arms wide open and were expecting each and every one of them.

And she intended to describe each one.

"Now…." She fought for words. "It looks like a Dynamic-class cruiser. This ship is very important for some reason," She explained. "I can't see much more about it. There's a woman, too. She's a new Jedi. You have to stay with her. If you leave…." Revan felt a moment of unfathomable _despair_ for some odd reason. "Everything will go wrong."

"What else?" Carth asked quietly. "What about my family?"

Once again the visions of the future were jumping to her before she could ask for them, and she had to use a long pause to decipher their meanings.

"There's… I see something about a boy." She neglected to tell him about this much further. Somehow it didn't seem right to tell him the boy wore a Sith uniform, and the woman that Carth had to stay with had a hand to his throat, trying futilely to restrain herself from breaking his neck. "He's extremely angry, and a little frightened."

"But is he okay?" Carth now sounded worried. "The boy: it's Dustil, I know. Is he unharmed?"

"He's fine." Revan reassured. "That's all I can see."

Carth sighed, clearly relieved she hadn't said anything bad. Dustil must be his son, Revan guessed. The poor guy. What an emotional roller coaster he would go through when he figured out that—

"_There _you are!"

Revan jumped. She had just opened her eyes and breathed a little bit, and hadn't sensed the presence of another storming angrily toward them until he'd spoken.

And then there was a hand on the back of her robes, hauling her upwards and on her feet. She squeaked slightly.

Behind her, Malak sighed. "Don't worry me so much. I thought the Mandalorians got you."

Revan choked out a laugh. "Don't insult me, please. I might be buzzed, but I'm not irresponsible."

Carth was still sitting in his seat. He had let go of his drink, dropped his jaw, and widened his eyes enormously at the sight of Malak. Depicting Revan out of a crowd when she didn't have her character-forming essentials with her was hard; e_veryone _knew Malak, even if he changed his clothes and hid his face. He had a certain brutal aura that no one could mistake.

And it was visibly taking Carth by surprise.

In an instant, he was on his feet and saluting. Revan whimpered, tugging on the back of her robes. Malak let the fabric go, only to grasp tightly onto Revan's arm.

"Commander Malak," Carth acknowledged. Malak bowed his head in recognition.

"Soldier," He started. "I suppose _you're _the one who can tell me what _this one's _been up to for the last few hours?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything!" Revan whined. "I got lost through all the squads and battalions, found this guy who looked like he knew where he was going, and _followed him_!"

"You'll forgive me if I don't take your _very influential _word for it, I'm sure," Malak shot back.

"She speaks the truth, sir!" Carth piped up. "At least, she said she was lost and followed me to the cantina, sir."

"See?" Revan stuck her tongue out.

"Is that alcohol?" Malak asked, smelling Revan's breath. "Have you been drinking? What about your duties?"

"I did them all before I left." Revan shrugged aimlessly. "Or were you too worried to notice that the next three battles are conveniently lined up and placed on your desk?"

"I—" Malak stopped, thinking back to when he searched the ship and surrounding areas for the woman. "You're still in trouble." He turned to regard Carth. "I thank you for keeping a watch on her. She's not usually like this, but when she wants a break we'd better give it to her or we won't see her for hours on end."

Carth—still standing at attention—nodded briskly before saluting again. "You're welcome sir. Anything to help out the Jedi."

Malak began dragging Revan off in the opposite direction, murmuring threatening comments like "I'm going to beat you senseless," and one of his personal favorites, "the next time you do that, I'm going to tear your jaw off!"

Revan shrugged, finally stopping her resistance and simply walking along with Malak. She hoped inwardly that the captain Carth Onasi would remember what she told him about the future. She didn't know why the apparitions came to her so eagerly, but they did, so they _must _have been important.

Oh, well. The future was the future. And for now, she didn't have to worry about them. The spies in the Mandalorian ranks said that they were trying to retreat back to Malachor V, and Revan was intending to go in a hot pursuit.

--

Connan slapped her eyelids as the memory released her roughly, rubbing as hard as she could, trying to make herself cry so the moisture would return to her eyes. She would analyze and evaluate the memory later; it had been a particularly long memory and her eyes were suffering for it.

And then there was a hand on her shoulder, and for a moment she jumped. Then another hand pulled her face upward and spoke softly to her.

"Calm down, it's only me. Hold your head back and open your eyes."

Connan complied immediately, tilting her head backwards against the cargo hold wall. She struggled with the second part, but ultimately succeeded in slitting her eyes open. After a few moments, a cool liquid dropped into her eyes and she shut them again, desperate to keep the moisture inside the lids.

"Feel better?" The man asked, sitting back with his back against the wall or the cargo hold, like Connan, releasing his hold on Connan lightly.

It was common knowledge to the crew of the _Ebon Hawk _that whenever a memory struck Connan, she would flee to the cargo hold. Likewise, if the cargo hold door was shut, it was probably true that she was having another memory attack.

"Yeah," Connan finally answered, opening her eyes and blinking around. "That feels better."

Then Connan realized who was in the room with her, and who her most recent memory had been about.

Once again Connan nearly leapt off of the cargo hold floor, staring at Carth like she'd seen him for the first time.

"How long have you been here?" She asked, turning a deep shade of red.

"Ever since Revan called Saul Karath an idiot." Carth answered, laughing. "I have to admit, it's rather refreshing to hear it come from someone other than me."

Connan slapped her hands to her eyes again, trying to stop her face from turning any more red. Carth had seen more than _half _of the memory!

"You never told me you had seen Revan before," She asked suddenly. "In fact, you said you hadn't seen her, but you'd seen Malak."

"That's exactly what that memory said, didn't it?" Carth explained, leaning back and crossing his arms. "I never knew that you were Revan, even then. When I met you on the _Endar Spire_, there were enough facial and personality changes that I could tell between two different people. There was no way to associate one Jedi between another."

Connan sighed, trying to overcome her humiliation at having seen Carth before.

"And those predictions I made…." She muttered mostly to herself.

"Some of those, I have to admit, were hard to believe." Carth shrugged. "I visited Dustil after the war ended, and I was _sure _there was no anger or fear in him. Then the Sith attacked Telos and he disappeared, and I was convinced you'd gotten the visions wrong."

"What about the other ones?" Connan asked, feeling a bit creepy by making such predictions about Carth, being so sure they were about him, and having them involve her anyway.

"Truth be told, I forgot about the other predictions for the longest time." Carth started. "Then the _Endar Spire _started being attacked and blew up, and I remembered that you had said that would happen."

Connan nodded, understanding completely. As she had watched her own memories, she had been amazed by how on-the-mark they'd been, and how uncaring she'd seemed to them simply because there could have been so many ways to interpret them. It seemed foolish to her now, because in her mind this was the only way things could have turned out.

Connan then began thinking about the other prediction she'd made, that if he left the woman from the _Endar Spire_, everything would go wrong. It had been like a silent, past plea for him not to leave her, she figured. It made her turn red again. She knew now that if he had in fact left when he realized that she was Revan, she would have obliterated everything in her despair and anger.

Connan bit her tongue, her pride refusing to mention that last prophecy.

"Since I'm sure you're not going to ask," Carth could apparently tell what she was thinking, because he crossed his arms and smirked at her as she glared. "I'm going to go ahead and tell you what you want to know."

"Oh?" Connan dared, sitting cross-legged in front of Carth. "What do I want to know?"

"You want to know about why I didn't leave you when we all figured out that you were Revan." Carth answered, his eyes flashing defiance. "And the answer is simple: I chose to stay because you are and always will be _Connan_, not a Dark-Sided, evil Revan, bent on taking over the Republic."

"I did _not _try to—"

"Yes, yes, I know." Carth cut her off before another tirade enveloped her. "You weren't taking over the Republic."

"And I _wasn't _evil." Connan argued. Carth shrugged, standing up and offering Connan a hand. She took it gratefully, pulling herself up beside him.

"You've told us often enough," Carth answered. "Now come on. Mission made me come in here twenty minutes ago to check on you, and she's going to freak if you don't come out anytime soon."

"Yes, I did tell her I'd play pazaak with her when the memory came." Connan admitted as the cargo doors opened. "I sort of ran out on her for it."

"That just means you have to play double!" Mission's voice called through the ship. Connan laughed.

"Fine. But I want alcohol."

--

**Date/Time Finished: 1/28/2008 3:04 PM Central Time**

**End Notes: For the record again, it did **_**not **_**take a billion weeks like it looks like. A lot of it was holidays and work that I had to do in the class. Sorry. On to the next one!**

**And yes, for those of you who have asked, the title sort of **_**is **_**derived from Wicked the Musical. It's one of my favorite songs on the soundtrack, so I used it.**

_**Amme Moto**_


	3. The Scoundrel

**Date/Time Started: 1/29/08 2:15 PM Central Time**

**Author's Notes: Started the next day from when I finished the last one. We had eighteen exercises to get through in the B.C.I.S. class to get through before I could finish the last one and start on this one. It took me a week and a half.**

**--**

**Chapter Three: The Scoundrel**

Revan huffed. She crossed her arms and slid down the Academy wall, hitting the floor harshly. She draped one leg over the other and slapped her feet against the ground loudly.

"I don't _want _to go." She whined. "I'm sick of getting in trouble."

"You won't get in trouble," The other woman sat down next to her, crossing her legs and kneading her fingers together. "You're following your Master on one of her missions."

"But they canceled the mission, already!" She moaned. "Besides, the last time I ran off without telling someone I got in trouble."

"You've gotten into trouble before, you know."

"They took my _lightsaber_! I _just _got it back!" As if to emphasize the fact, she twirled it affectionately through her fingers, gazing at it protectively.

"You were the one who relinquished it to them." The woman pointed out. "They don't have any control over you and your lightsaber. You didn't have to give it to them if you didn't want to, just like they can't force being an exile onto anyone."

Her eyes flashed and she glared.

"Then why didn't you tell me that when I had five of them staring me down, Kreia?" She growled. Kreia, who had hunched over to her Padawan's sitting height, sat back and stretched her back.

"Because, _Revan_," Kreia explained. "Now they think they can use the same punishment on you again, when you know perfectly well that it won't work."

Revan's eyes almost glazed over. Kreia knew by now the look of Revan when she was calculating the odds of something. The hazel of her irises turned almost green and she frowned, biting her lower lip and glancing around the room as if it held all the answers and just wasn't showing her.

She seemed to come to a decision abruptly, because she connected her eyes with Kreia again and smirked.

"That's brilliant." She admitted. Kreia grinned—the grin she knew she would only ever show to her beloved student—and patted her head.

"That it is," She agreed. "And what is your answer?"

"Is Malak coming? Or Bastila? Or Bandon? What about Donella?"

"No. Malak's Master has decided that he needs more training, since the last time you two fought you ended up nearly knocking his teeth out. Bastila is at the meditation stage of her training now, one particular stage that she seems intent on staying on, since she started it about a month ago." Kreia smirked to herself. Revan had rushed past the meditation stage of the training. Sitting still and _thinking _were two of the things that Revan decided she didn't need with her Jedi career. "Donella is currently stationed on Dantooine with Kavar, while he's standing in the Council for Vrook, and Bandon is too young to be out on a mission."

Revan smirked now, too.

"Good." She stood, holding her hand out to help Kreia up as well. "Where are we going and why?"

Kreia tugged at Revan's robes, motioning for her to follow her Master out the door.

"We will be traveling to the Outer Rim world of Taris." Kreia explained as she made her way toward her Padawan's room. "At first they told me that I was to be investigating into the murders of the four Jedi Padawans. They thought Zayne Carrick—the 'marginal' Force Adept—was behind the attacks, but it appears that there is someone else underneath all of it. I was to be sent to find out whom and stop them."

"But that was _months _ago!" Revan whined. "Who knows what could have happened since then."

"That what's we're going to find out."

"Fine. I guess it makes sense so far," Revan piped. She entered her room and began packing quickly. "So if you were supposed to go and find out what happened, then why did they cancel it?"

"Shortly after the murders occurred, the Mandalorians invaded." Kreia whispered. Revan lurched, flexing her hands and trying hard not to summon her saber.

"The Mandalorians?" She asked. "Why would they want Taris? There's nothing there but—"

"It doesn't matter why they're there." Kreia interrupted, shaking Revan's shoulder to prod her back into packing once more. "What matters is that they attacked, and to avoid confrontation with them, the Jedi cancelled my mission out there."

"And you still want to go."

"Missions are still missions," Kreia excused. "And those Padawans were close to some of my more connected acquaintances. I'm not going to leave the matter unsaid because a bunch of men decided they wanted to take over that planet."

"So what?" Revan asked as she cinched up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "We're going to fight the Mandalorians? Getting kicked out a little early, are we?"

Kreia frowned. She knew Revan didn't like the Jedi any more than she did. She knew that the fifteen year old girl only stayed because Kreia did, and she didn't know what she would do with her life if she didn't have the Jedi. She would cause as much trouble as she could while still staying in the lines, but she was still adverse to major Code breaks.

"We are looking into the matter of the four murdered Padawans." She stated, grasping Revan's wrist and pulling toward the space docks. They had to leave quickly before the Jedi found out that they were gone. "If the Mandalorians happen to attack us in the meantime, it's their own fault for getting in the way."

Revan grinned.

"Hang on," She insisted, grabbing a datapad before being pulled completely from her room. "I want to leave a note at least. I won't say where we're going, because it should be obvious enough, but Bastila will have a rancor and try to obliterate my mind if I leave without telling her again."

Kreia stopped, allowing her a quick note.

--

"So, other than the fact that you wanted another skilled lightsaber to follow you around, why did you ask me to come along?" Revan asked from the copilot seat, running a hand through her disheveled hair.

"You're my Padawan," Kreia answered.

"So? They never let Padawans go along with their Masters on their missions until they're age twenty." Revan retaliated. "And I don't think I'm twenty."

Kreia laughed quietly, inwardly impressed.

"It seems you've been reading up on the Code again." She murmured, more to herself than to Revan. Revan frowned to herself. "Yes, all right? Most Padawans don't start missions until they're twenty. Previously to my canceled mission, I was in the process of talking them into letting you accompany me anyway until the Mandalorians invaded."

Revan beamed, and suddenly her energy level shot upward. Kreia knew Revan liked getting praise from her old Master, whether or not she showed it outwardly.

"But then they canceled the mission, and I didn't want to waste the perfect opportunity to get some extra training in." She finished. "And I knew you wanted something else to disrupt and destroy instead of Kath Hounds and Kinrath."

Revan chuckled. "So you're going to let me head some of the investigations?"

"_All_ of the investigations, dear child." Kreia insisted. "If you can beat all the other Padawans your age at that game you like to play, then you can definitely tackle a real mission and do it correctly." She frowned.

"What game?" Revan asked incredulously. "Join the War?"

"Yes, the one that the Jedi Council hates you playing."

"The cowards." Revan spat.

Kreia decided to let the subject fall flat. It was never a good idea to talk with Revan about the Mandalorians. True, she didn't _hate _them, but she hated them taking over defenseless worlds in an attempt to drive the Jedi to war. If they wanted a war, why didn't the Jedi give them a war?

"That, dear Revan, is why I'm taking you with me." Kreia finished. "So you can get some experience that you may need later on." She flashed a crooked smile at her Padawan. "And you'll get to meet new friends."

Revan laughed.

"I have _enough _friends." She answered.

"One can never have enough friends; they make excellent minions." Kreia elbowed Revan. Revan shoved at Kreia playfully.

Revan was no fool. She knew that Kreia did not usually act so nicely in the Jedi Academy. But she'd been around Kreia for eleven years; she had the right to say that she knew a thing or two about her Master. Kreia did not like to show emotions in front of others, it promoted weakness in her eyes. The only one she would joke around with and treat like an equal was Revan, and probably only her because she had stuck with her after all of the intense and sometimes inhumane trainings they had gone through together.

Revan herself knew something of hiding emotions, though her method was a bit different from Kreia's. Kreia insisted on hiding all emotion from the senses. She kept an apathetic view on everything and if she had to show any feeling at all, it was either intense surprise or anger. Revan remained cool headed. She was a happy-go-lucky kind of person and nothing could bring her spirits down; not even the wars or the taunting of other—smaller—Padawans. She always wore a happy face and no matter if someone cajoled her or picked her into a fight, she always wore that happy expression.

It was looking beneath the expression that was slightly disturbing, if not dangerous.

Beneath Revan's mask was a dark, dank abyss of emotions far too complicated for any Jedi to sort through. They took it all to be the Dark Side and ordered her to banish it from her thoughts. They said that if she didn't she would lead herself down the path of destruction.

But Kreia knew better. Kreia was the one who did not try to suppress Revan's real emotions. In fact, the first few parts of training had been so completely grueling and almost horrifying because she had been trying to break the mask, to bend the exterior appearance into something that was _completely _Revan.

After that part of the training, though, things changed for Revan. She didn't fight the emotions, nor did she try to deny their existence. She instead learned a sneaky way of enforcing them into the people her age, so that they would agree with her on the way things were and she could influence them easier. In front of the elder Jedi was when the real mask came up.

"How long until we get to Taris?"

--

"We shouldn't use our real names here, child." Kreia advised Revan as the girl swooped out of the shuttle as fast as she could. She reached the bottom and stretched.

"I know that," Revan answered. "I'd thought of that already. If we use our real names here, the Jedi will find us anyway, if they haven't already figured out what's going on."

"So," Kreia challenged. "My Padawan, since you already had _that _planned out, what do you think our first move in this mission should be?"

Revan scratched her chin, frowning in thought. "We should check out the scene of the crime, obviously."

"An excellent idea," Kreia admitted. "Except for the part where the Mandalorians took control of that sector of the Lower City. We'll need a few days to figure out how to get past them, and if we're sitting around doing nothing in the meantime, we're just wasting what little time we have before the Jedi find us."

"Hmmm," Revan pondered, pacing around the space port. "So time is against us, in one way."

"Indeed."

Revan paced around the spaceport while Kreia sat and stared at her. Revan closed her eye as she walked, using her Force Sight to keep her from bumping into anything.

What could they do if they couldn't look at the bodies? Or the scene of the crime, for that matter. There was little they could accomplish without those two key factors, and wasting more time and was necessary could be deadly to her first mission. If the Jedi found them before they made any leeway, they would be sent back to the Academy and punished yet _again _for leaving.

Not that that wouldn't happen anyway, she just didn't want it to happen so _quickly._

So what to do?

"Well," She started. "We could ask around, I guess. See if anyone knows anything about it. After we find a place to stay, we'll figure out what to do to get past the Mandalorians and to the Jedi corpses."

Kreia nodded approvingly.

"There are a few places to go to," She suggested. "There is the cantina, of course. No doubt some of the drunkards in there will be able to tell us a little about what is going on." She shrugged.

"No," Revan shook her head. "The people who spend all their time in there are usually always drunk, and have by no means seen anything worth seeing."

Kreia was slightly impressed. That level of thinking was usually saved only for those apt in warfare and those well over the age of fifteen.

"We should start looking in the gang hideouts," Revan went on. "I've been told that the ones especially dedicated to their gangs never do anything against their loyalties. If we can talk to the gang leaders we can find the people who saw the ones responsible, or at least those who know about it."

"And what if we walk into the base with the people who actually _did _the deed?" Kreia inquired. Revan smirked.

"We take care of them, of course," She twirled her lightsaber through her fingers. "Self defense and all that."

"Great," Kreia acknowledged. "Where do we start?"

"I'd like to start in the Hidden Beks, really." Revan admitted, shrugging. "I read up on this subject while we were stuck in the small shuttle-of-death, and they seem the more friendly type."

--

"Hold it!" The guard in front of the door called, holding a blaster in front of her. Kreia and Revan stopped walking, and Revan waved at the woman.

"Good afternoon!" She called nicely.

"What is it you want?" The woman barked.

"We want to talk to the leader of this gang," Revan answered truthfully. "We have some questions we need answered."

"A lot of people want to come in and talk to Gadon. What makes you so special?" The woman sneered. She raked a hand through her jet-black hair and growled. "Look, with the Mandalorians attacking and all of this nonsense going around about the Black Vulcars, he's got no time for anything else."

"What if we know something about the Mandalorians?" Kreia jumped in. The guard glanced at her warily.

"What if you did?"

"We would probably come in and tell Gadon about it, in exchange for some information of his own," Revan continued, keeping her arms wide open so the woman wouldn't think she was concealing something. "And if he had information that could ultimately help _us _in our travels, we might inadvertently end up aiding him in his quest for world safety."

The woman frowned, shifting her quizzical gaze from Kreia—who stood emotionlessly, acting as if nothing was wrong with anything—and Revan, who simply shrugged and cocked an eyebrow.

"What are your names?" The woman finally asked.

"Umm…." Revan glanced back at Kreia. "Her name is Traya. My name is….Connan."

"You can go in and see Gadon if you want," The woman conceded. "Just know that if you try anything funny, you'll be dead before you can say 'Mandalorian'."

Revan bowed deeply to the woman, who had her back turned to put in the password to open the doors. The large doors opened with a _shuck _and Revan walked boldly in, followed by Kreia.

"You came up with those names fast," Kreia remarked quietly as they made their way through the empty hallway before them and into the actual Hidden Bek hideout.

"Well, you look like a Traya," Revan explained.

"It sounds awfully Dark Sided," Kreia answered.

"That's never bothered you before," Revan chided, smirking at her Master's knowing grin.

"And what about _your_ name?" Kreia continued. "I've never heard you use that alias before. I thought for sure you'd fall back on Minuetta, or perhaps Milaude."

"Milaude is one of my favorite aliases," Revan admitted. "It's fun to use because it sounds like 'my lord' and I can pull sexist nonsense on people." She chuckled quietly to herself. "But I thought up that name a few hours ago, just before we landed on Taris in the first place." She shrugged. "I think I like it. I'm going to use it more often."

And suddenly they were in the Hidden Beks hideout. The large doors at the end of the hallway opened and a floor of people poured out, blasters trained on the two of them.

Revan instinctively took a mental count of all the people. Thirty five blasters. The blaster closest to them spoke.

"Who are you, and what is your purpose here?" He barked.

"Why are we hesitating?" Asked a slightly smaller man next to the first one. "Kill them now!"

"Calm down, Brejik." The first one commanded. Brejik bit his lip and shut up.

"I'm called Traya, and this is Connan," Kreia called. "We are here to investigate into the murder of the four Jedi Padawans."

"And you thought to look here _why_?" Another voice—coming from a Twi'Lek—snapped.

"We thought you could offer us information on the occasion," Kreia continued. "In exchange for our help with the Mandalorians."

"How could you help us?" The man asked.

"Have you never seen Jedi before?" Revan asked.

"The Jedi never usually have cause to come to Taris." The first blaster explained. "And whenever they _do _come, they're usually not in the mood for exchanging goods for service."

"Would you like us to prove it?" Kreia asked politely. The man holding the blaster nodded, keeping his hands steadied on his blaster.

Kreia shot a look to Revan, giving her permission to prove what she wanted. Revan glanced around the room, looking for a few of the things that could be used to impress the people in the room.

The first blaster jerked impatiently. "Get on with it!" Sweat was trickling down his head. He was nervous, she could tell, as he shifted his grip.

The blaster.

Normally Revan would have thrown her hands into the air for dramatic effect; it awed the people around her and gave her a _little _bit more focus than before. However, in this situation, where nearly three dozen blasters were trained specifically on her, she figured that swift, sudden movements would cause them to open fire, and dying by something other than old age was something Revan was unwilling to do.

Besides, it's not like she actually _needed _to use her hands. It helped if she was in a rush, sure, but she could take all the time she needed with this trick. It didn't cause for anything special.

So, Revan twitched her eye, keeping her hands limp at her sides. She instantly became aware of everything in the room as she focused. She could feel the pulses beat on every single being inside the room. She could feel the machines and droids buzzing around further inside the hideout, fixing small, broken odds and ends. She became even more aware of every single blaster trained on her as she took a deep breath.

She channeled all of the awareness into the thirty five blasters. She could feel their parts, now, and how much firepower they had in there before they began to overheat. It was almost as if she _was _the machine.

And with a small flick of her right index finger, all thirty-five blasters jerked out of their holder's hands and into the air.

Revan was smart. She pulled them closely to the ceiling of the room, so no one could jump and retrieve theirs. They could have them back when they acknowledged them and let them help.

"Umm…. Sir?" Called a meek-looking Twi'Lek male. "Might I suggest that we let them help?"

"I—" The man who had been in possession of the first blaster stared in awe at the ceiling. "I don't believe it!"

"It's true," Kreia answered. Revan could tell in her voice she was trying hard not to show how impressed she was. "May we come in, now? We've been traveling for a while now, and we are a bit tired."

The dark man stood straight, clenching his fists together compulsively. Revan could read his thoughts without trying, with the way they flew off of him.

The man was feeling a bit distrusting. He didn't know what to make about the two new strangers who were suddenly asking for help in investigations that should have been closed. They certainly were offworlders, but that didn't make them any more trustworthy.

Revan sighed. She needed the trust and the support of this gang to get done what she wanted to get done. With faultless grace, she lowered the blasters back to their owners. The Bek members scrambled in the air for their specific weapon.

"You have no reason to distrust us," She said. "I'm only fifteen years old. Traya is a bit too old to do anything dangerous without backup. I'm sure all of you combined could take on a harmless fifteen year-old and an ancient historian."

Revan bit back a snort as she felt Kreia's biting indignation bubble up at being called _ancient_ and continued.

"We only need a bit of information," She finished. "In exchange for our help against the Mandalorians. We have a place in the apartments we can stay in, so we won't have to bother you in all hours of the night."

The man's offended thoughts slowly subsided. A genuine smile played across his lips and he strode forward, holding out a hand.

"My name is Gadon Thek." He stated as Revan took his hand in a firm grip and shook it. "I'm the leader of the Hidden Beks."

"Greetings," Revan grinned a grin she knew would pull at his heartstrings—Revan had spent many a year finding out what to press to get on people's good sides. "I am Connan, and this is my Master Traya."

--

"You will stay here, of course," Gadon insisted as he led them into the common room for the Beks. "You offer such a large cost for so little. And I can't have a child like yourself out on the streets with little to no protection." He stopped himself with a smirk. "Jedi or not."

Revan choked down the urge to tell him she was _not _a child. She was fifteen years old.

"Once you two are fed and have taken showers, we will begin talking about the four murdered Padawans. I have a few people in my hideout you might benefit from speaking to."

Revan had to admit that it was a pretty sound idea. The dirt and the grime that laced her whole body was enough to make her scream, and she hadn't eaten since they ran out of food on the shuttle the day before.

"I'll have Griff come and bring you your food," Gadon insisted. Revan didn't miss the spark of ignominy that flaked his mind and listened as he muttered, "It's about _all _he's good for." He once again flashed his we're-having-guests-an-must-be-polite smile toward the two Jedi and wandered out.

"Well," Kreia started as she relaxed on the comfortable chairs set out for them. Revan bypassed the chair to sit on the floor, her favorite place by far. "That was a rather inspiring event."

Revan swelled with pride. To make Kreia say the word _impressive _was nigh impossible, and Revan had long since given up making her say it. But Kreia was not against using synonyms to the word in question, however rarely she spouted them.

"What made you think of using the blasters?" Kreia questioned. Revan shrugged.

"Brejik seemed to be clinging to his rather importantly." She explained. "I just wanted to know what would happen if I took away their one source of protection, when they asked us to explain what was going on."

"That was a smart idea," Kreia advised happily. "You undermined their tactics and disarmed them all at the same time."

"I try," Revan smirked.

And there they sat for a number of minutes, Kreia in her seat and Revan leaning against the cold, hard wall. Both of them relaxed in the sensation of being safe, and Revan began thinking about what it was like to be away from any sort of Academy at all.

It was a strange feeling. Revan thought she would have felt something like fear, as well as a homesickness she wouldn't have realized that she had until it swarmed up to her and took her very being in illness. But what she had crowding into her soul was not homesickness, not even a wariness she was more than prone to listen to. No, she was feeling a keen happiness she had not felt in a long time. She was feeling _free_, as if someone had caged her for twelve years and suddenly let her out again, even if only for a short time.

This was probably an effect that Kreia wanted to happen within Revan. She had been trying to convince the girl for nearly a year now that the Jedi were not everything, and that the war would need immediate attention, no matter how much the Jedi were against it. They were going to be the death of the Republic, and Kreia would have none of it. She, however, would not leave without her precious Padawan.

So, see her Padawan on a mission—whether or not they're supposed to go notwithstanding—and she could see for herself what kind of freedom lay without the flaws of the Jedi Code pressing down on her every minute of the day. After a while the only thing left to do would be to find the courage to ask how to leave.

The thought was…. Tempting.

But before Revan could venture more on the subject lying inside her head, the door banged open and three people piled inside. Two were Twi'Leks, one tall and lanky, the other small, probably no more than seven years old.

The third was Zayne Carrick.

Revan was on her feet in an instant, her lightsaber in her hands and ignited. She stood protectively in front of Kreia and growled.

And just as quickly Zayne's hands were in the air, a surrendered look on his face.

"I'm just here to talk; I mean you no harm," He squeaked, brushing his brown hair out of his eyes. "I've got a long story to tell."

"Who are your friends?" Kreia asked from behind Revan.

"This is Griff. He's supposed to bring you food," Zayne explained. "And that's his—"

There was a little girl staring Revan down, now, with her balled fists on her hips and a snarl on her face. She seemed to have no frame of reference to what a lightsaber was, since she had no fear in staring it in the face, as if it were a rabid gizka or something equally bothersome but harmless.

"I'm Mission Vao." She barked, pressing her thumb into her chest. Revan came out of her crouch, slightly surprised by the boldness of the girl. "Zayne says you're people like him. You'd better not hurt him, or you'll have to answer to _me_!"

Revan was close to letting her jaw go slack, so she could give an expression fitting to her emotions. What _cheek _this little girl had! To just stand up in front of a Jedi—whether or not she knew what they were or how dangerous they could be—and say such rude things, Revan had never seen anyone do that before.

It was _adorable_.

"Well," Revan closed her blue lightsaber, clipping back onto her robes. "You're instantly my favorite member here."

Kreia laughed from behind her, an out loud, all-out laughter that she showed very rarely. What Revan said must have amused her.

"Please, have a seat," Griff—the Twi'Lek shaking behind Mission—insisted. Revan could feel his fear, as if he actually thought that Revan would slice the brave girl in half. She must be of some relation to him, for him to care about her so much.

"Won't you join us?" Kreia asked Zayne, waving a hand in front of her to emphasize.

"Yes, please do." Revan insisted, crossing her legs and sitting where she once stood.

"As long as you promise not to attack me or arrest me." Zayne bargained cautiously, taking a step forward.

"I assure you, my Master and I don't share many of the common Jedi beliefs." Revan bowed. "We make no assumptions until all the facts are in place."

So Zayne sat down.

"Of course," Revan continued. "Your two friends are welcome to join you."

"Oh, I was going to stay anyway," Mission plopped down on the floor next to Revan.

"Mission, let's not disturb the Jedi," Griff chuckled nervously, setting the food down on the table next to Kreia's seat. "They surely have things to discuss."

"Of course we do," Revan said, "but that doesn't mean she can't be here, too."

"Well…." Griff scratched the back of his head. "I _do _have a few things to check out. You promise to keep her out of trouble?"

"Sure, staying safe is my way of life." Revan was glad Kreia withheld her snort this time.

"Do you want to stay with the Jedi, Mission?" Griff asked the girl.

"Yeah!"

"All right," Griff waved his thanks and started for the door. "I'll be back in a few hours."

When Griff left, Zayne started.

"I know it looks bad against me," He started. "But I swear I didn't kill them. They were my friends; I wanted nothing more than to become Jedi with them. I had no reason to kill them."

"Master Vandar stated that you had only a little bit of Force sensitivity, and struggled often to keep up."

"That's true," Zayne admitted. "But that doesn't mean I hated them! I was friends with every one of them. After the ceremony we were going to attend, we were planning to go to the cantina and celebrate."

Revan rubbed her forehead. She sincerely hoped that Zayne Carrick would fight better than he could persuade. Every word that came out was whined from his nose, and even when he tried to sound serious, it came out childishly and Revan was _sure _that no one would ever take him seriously. And his making excuses off the bat was just annoying her.

"Why don't you start from the beginning?"

--

Four hours later sat Revan against the wall in the same room she'd been in when Zayne first arrived. Mission was passed out on the floor next to her, her head lying daintily on Revan's leg. Her lekku twitched momentarily.

"So, you and Marn 'Gryph' Hieropryph came back to Taris to help with the Mandalorian attack, just as we did." Revan concluded. She sighed. "Well, at least we didn't have to hunt you down."

Zayne's eye twitched a little bit at the thought. "Hunt me down?"

"Jedi term," Revan waved it off. "Go on."

"So I want you to help me with the Mandalorian problem." Zayne insisted. Revan's gaze sharpened.

"Well, since we don't have to pursue your Master or the old Padawan's Masters because they're already dead or otherwise taken care of," She considered. "I guess we could help a little here or there. But this is where the problem comes in."

Revan could feel Kreia sit up. The woman had moved from the chair to a couch at one point, and she had been lounging around while Revan interrogated Zayne.

Revan was slightly grateful for it. She knew that Kreia didn't really like the missions the Jedi Council gave her. If a chance came up to let someone else take charge of it while she watched in the background, she was all for it. Especially if it was her own Padawan looking for the answers. This way she could watch over her Padawan's growth and be satisfied with what her child was learning.

"What problem?" Zayne asked.

"The Jedi Council have prohibited Jedi interference with the war for the moment," Revan explained. "And no amount of begging, persuading, or threatening can get them to change it at the time. It might change sooner or later, the closer they get to the Republic, but they don't want anything to do with the upcoming war for now."

Zayne's face darkened. "So you won't help?"

"I didn't say that," Revan coated her reply with acid. "I said it would be a problem. You know our story; you know we stole away here after the mission was already canceled. If we come back saying we attacked the Mandalorians head on, we would be expelled from the Order." She shrugged. "And at the moment, I have nothing better to take its place."

"So what do you suggest you do?"

"I have no special qualms with disobeying the Jedi Code. I do it often enough as it is. But it needs to stay within that small, hard-to-see line of outrageous, and deadly." Revan stretched her upper body, making sure not to wake the seven year old sleeper. "If we were to openly attack the Mandalorians, we would be in a heap of trouble with the Jedi."

"So you're saying—"

"You'd know what I was saying if you'd let me finish," Revan knew she was using that dangerous tone she'd developed over the years, no doubt all thanks to Kreia. "But, since we came here to fulfill the mission that was cancelled in the first place, and the Mandalorians attacked _us,_ and we _had _to defend ourselves, we would only get a lecture of the consequences of our actions, and not receive any punishment at all, as infuriating as that is."

"Well _done_, Revan." Kreia praised. Revan beamed.

"You seem to know a lot about your Jedi Council." Zayne frowned.

"I make it my business to know a lot about everyone." Revan answered.

The small Twi'Lek stirred, and Revan looked down as the girl sat up, rubbing her eyes gently.

"Wha'dai miss?" She slurred.

"You didn't miss anything," Revan answered. "You were gone for only five minutes."

If Revan was great at lying to adults, she was _fantastic _at lying to little kids. They seemed to believe her much more than adults, who sometimes could sense the dark seed in her mind of discontent. Adults needed time to be won over. Seven year olds needed someone to lavish attention on them.

And the fact that _this _seven year old was Revan's personal favorite helped a lot.

"Are you hungry?" Kreia asked Mission. "We saved some food for you."

"Yeah!" Mission's grubby little hands reached for the fruit leftover and she sank her teeth into them. After a few chew, she swallowed. "So who are you people really?"

Revan blinked.

"Pardon me?" She asked nicely. "I'm Connan, and this is Traya." She glanced at Zayne, making eye contact and telling him telepathically _not _to tell anyone about their real names; if people wanted to know, _she _would tell them.

"I don't think so," Mission sang. "You don't look like a Connan. Connans look like old people."

Revan flinched.

"_Old _people?"

"Yeah! Like a twenty year old! Oh! Or maybe a twenty-five year old!" Mission shuddered. "That's nearly as high as I can count!"

Revan laughed. "I'll remember that."

"So, are you going to tell me your real names?"

Revan shook her head.

"No, I think I'll let you guess." She said. Mission pouted.

"Aww, I don't get a hint?"

Revan shook her head. "No, but if you get the first letter right I'll show you how to pick the lock on a high security door." Mission's eyes lighted up and she gasped.

"You know how to do that?!"

"Of course!" Revan explained. "It's simple enough."

"Will you teach me how to fight? My brother says he won't teach me because they're dangerous, but I think it's because he really doesn't know how." Revan thought for a second before realizing that Griff must be the brother she was talking about.

"There are too many ways to fight for me to teach all of them to you," She started. Mission stood as Revan did, and Revan kneeled back down to fix Mission rucked up clothes. "And a lot of them are too sophisticated for someone so young." She couldn't stand the disappointed look on Mission's face. "But I can teach you to pickpocket." She suggested.

"How can a Judai know how to pickpocket?" Mission asked blatantly.

"_Jedi_," Revan corrected. "And I wasn't always a Jedi. I was just like these people once, trying to make my way in the world all by myself."

"Hmm…." Mission blinked. "Is pickpocket-ing easy?"

"Sometimes," Revan admitted.

"Revan," Kreia admonished. "It's getting late."

"Yeah, we should really head in for the night." Revan agreed.

"I'll call Griff in to show you to your rooms," Zayne said. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes," Revan started. "Where can we find Marn 'Gryph' Hieropryph?"

"He usually stays here, with me." Zayne answered. "He tries to keep a lower profile than I do, since the Jedi still want him found, and I'm not going to turn him in."

"You'll make sure he stays where we can get to him for interrogation," Kreia said. It wasn't question. Zayne nodded.

"You two don't want to cause harm, you just want to know what happened. I respect you two more than any of the other Jedi I know. I'll let him know what's going on, and then you can talk to him when you have time."

--

"I want to spend the night with them!" Mission jerked a hand toward Revan. Revan stopped in front of their quarters, staring at the enraged child. "They're interesting!"

"Mission, I'm sure they wouldn't want to have you bothering them all night…." Griff scratched the back of his head.

"Nonsense," Kreia called from inside the room. "Revan enjoys her presence."

"All right, then," Griff consented. "You _did _take good care of her while I was gone. Don't let her get into any danger, okay?"

"We won't," Revan waved as he left. Mission bolted into the room, scoping out for a place for her to sleep.

"There's not enough beds," She called, staring at the two that resided in the room. "I'll sleep on the floor."

"If we invited you to come and spend the evening with us," Kreia started, crouching down and laying her hand on the top of Mission's head. "You would not spend the evening sleeping on the cold, hard floor. You can share Revan's bed. She'd used to cots, so she won't take up much space at all."

"Great!" Mission plopped down on the bed of her choice. Revan guessed that's where she was sleeping, too. "Hey! Griff just got a new holovid the other day. Do you want to watch it?"

Revan glanced to Kreia.

"Is it all right for you to watch?"

"Everything Griff gets is okay for me to watch."

Kreia cocked an eyebrow at Revan, and Revan knew it as a challenge, and not as a question.

"The Council would not approve."

Revan switched her gaze from Kreia, who was waiting for the answer, and Mission, who seemed very confused about the turn the conversation had taken.

Revan smiled.

"Let's watch a holovid."

--

The holovid was not one that Revan would have let a seven year old watch. There was too much violence in it, any regular seven year old would be scared out of their mind. But Mission sat there with a solemn face on, taking in the movie one scene at a time.

"My," Kreia remarked once the holovid finished. The room was dark and everyone was seated on Kreia's bed, since it was closest to the holoscreen. "That sure seems like a grown up movie to watch."

"I know, isn't it great?" Mission asked. "Someday when I get older, I'm going to do all of these things, too. I'm going to find a friend who I'm inseparable from and we're going to join a crew of misfits on the way to save to galaxy!"

She was a seven year old child, with a large imagination, an acid tongue, and a brass fist. And yet, Revan believed her.

"And how do you know this?" Kreia asked.

"It's something that I've always known." Mission answered with a shrug. "I'll be sad to leave Griff behind, but sometimes there are bigger things to take care of in the world than the ones we love."

"Who told you that?" Revan asked, frowning.

"My mama and papa before they left." Mission answered in total indifference. She yawned. "I'm exhausted, guys. Can we go to sleep, now?"

Kreia nodded. "Of course, young one."

Mission hopped from Kreia's bed to Revan's and was out before she hit the pillow.

"Kree," Revan used the nickname. "I don't know what it is about that girl, but she feels all right to be around."

"I know what you mean." Kreia said. Revan glanced at her with an amused eyebrow cocked.

"What, you could feel it, too?"

"Of course not." Kreia replied, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her arms on her kneecaps. "But you're not one to trust people so lightly. You play with them until they prove to be trustworthy and _then_ you let them in, even when they're children." She didn't even try to hide her smirk this time. "But with this child, you took one look at her and decided to let her in on our mission. You even revealed to her that we aren't who we say we are."

"She just seems important," Revan excused.

"And I've never have cause to doubt your instincts before," Kreia countered. "So I'm not telling you not to trust her. I'm telling you that maybe she's important for a different reason."

"What reason?" Kreia was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet, and she was speaking in the teacher's tone Revan had come to half-dread, half-anticipate.

"Come, sit next to me." She said gravely. Revan complied immediately, sitting on the wall and crossing her legs on the ground. Kreia swung her legs over the side of the bed so she could see Revan clearly enough. "Close your eyes."

And Revan's eyes closed.

"Use your Force Sight to see the room," Kreia ordered. Revan's eyes rolled involuntarily to keep the temptation of opening her eyes away and focused.

The shadows came first. They twisted through the blackness from behind Revan's eyelids and formed shapes that normally wouldn't mean anything. The purple swirls came next, adding volume and dimensions to the shapes. Revan could make out Mission's sleeping form across the room, her chest rising up and down steadily. Then the lighter tones came in, a hint of yellow on the walls, a touch of light-gray on the door, and bluish tints covering the sheets. She could see Kreia, too, smirking at Revan as she completed the Force Sight ritual.

"Now," Kreia went on, her voice steady. "You see the different colors, yes?" She continued after Revan's nod. "Tell me where they are and what they mean."

"The black shadows are basic outlines of three-dimensional objects that others would knock into without knowing they were there, but they have no special powers and have no affiliated allies. You can usually tell what shadow is which after a while of using Force Sight, because the outlines never really change for things.

"The purple means life. No matter if it's a rancor or a human or a Twi'Lek, if they're breathing, they're purple. Even Force-Sensitive sentient beings have a basic outline of purple, stating that they're at least alive, since there are some objects in the world that are Force-Sensitive and can be the same color as the sentient.

"The yellow is an easy color, representing walls or obstacles, or large things in the way of the Force-Sight. If you're close enough you can see through them, but the yellow color is there so you don't smash into a wall and end up hindering yourself more than necessary.

"The gray means that there are fingerprints from sentient life-forms with no Force-Sensitivity.

"The blue means that there are traces of sentient life-forms _with _Force Sensitivity." Revan recited.

During her lesson, Mission's head had poked up from her sleeping form and she looked around the room. Revan watched her as the purple Twi'Lek form stared at her.

"You looking at me?" She asked Revan, pointing to herself. Revan smirked.

"I am," She answered. Mission slowly got off of the bed, making her way toward Revan cautiously.

"But your eyes are closed." She reached out a hand, as if trying to scare Revan by poking her nose. Revan snatched the hand away before Mission could react and plopped the girl down on the floor beside her.

"I can still see," she insisted. Mission nodded.

"I believe you."

"Back to the lesson," Kreia pushed. "The little one is more than welcome to witness, if you want."

Revan shrugged. "Just go on,"

"You can see evidence that there have been people here in the past, correct? The evidence left behind is enough to tell a story of at least three days ahead,"

"Six." Revan corrected. "No one's cleaned this room properly in a week."

"Hey!" Mission squeaked. "My brother is in charge of this room!"

"Now," Kreia pressed on. "Cast your mind forward slightly, and tell me what you see."

Revan pressed forward in her mind, and large, dark-gray shadows appeared, floating like clouds around her. She jerked involuntarily, making Mission jump.

"What is it?" The seven year old asked. "What did you see?"

"There are shadows," Revan answered. "They look like clouds. There are many of them; I can't count them all."

"Good," Kreia soothed. "Try to touch one; they're hard to catch."

Revan felt her mind reach out slowly toward on of the shadows. They slinked out of the way lazily, as if avoiding Revan's touch wasn't worth their time. Revan snatched at the air with her mind next, firmly grasping one in her hand.

She instantly let go.

She yelped this time, scrunching her eyes so she wouldn't open them and disconnect with her Force Sight.

She had seen…. Well, she didn't know what she'd seen.

There was a mask. It was sitting on a person's face. That mask, it stuck in Revan's mind more than the person in general did. It looked like blood had drenched it half way down, and it immediately struck terror in anyone who crossed the person's path.

She wanted that mask.

But with the vision came emotions. The despair of the image was drenched with worry, self-preservation, a _huge _possessiveness, and a deep sense of right and wrong.

"What _was _that?" She asked, flexing her hand as if it had actually been struck. It was tingling, at any rate, like she had actually used it to grab the shadow cloud.

"That was the future." Kreia answered. "Whatever you saw, you would have seen it longer the longer you held on.

"Now," Kreia continued. "Continue to watch the shadow of clouds, and this time think thoughts only of Mission. Anything you can about her, and the shadows will shift. Catch one from the front.

Revan did as she was told, and quickly grasped onto one of the closer clouds, determined to hold on.

It was Mission, she thought, but older. No older than fifteen, maybe fourteen. She was on a ship, arguing with an old man. The older man was rummaging through the medical bay frantically, obviously looking for supplies. On the medical bay sat a woman. Revan couldn't see her face; it was too blurry for facial specifics, but the rest of her body looked horrible. She looked as if she'd been crushed underneath something. Mission was worried about her.

Revan let that cloud go and snatched another before they could move.

Mission was charging at a tough-looking man, and the man struck her. She was almost knocked unconscious, and she hit the floor dazedly. A Wookie somewhere out of Connan's sight roared and attacked whoever slapped Mission, raising him a meter off the ground and shaking him thoroughly.

Quickly another cloud slid through Revan's fingers.

The same woman, her face still cropped in shadows, who had been in the med bay was crouched over a ship console, her head buried in her arms. She looked as if she was sobbing. A man behind her looked furious, as did a few of the others on the ship. Mission looked mortified, and completely surprised. Her face wasn't disgusted as a few of the others were, but instead calculating.

This vision talked.

"_Are you going to tell them what Malak said, or should I?" _The man behind the sobbing woman asked. The sobbing woman was on her feet in an instant, thrashing about angrily.

"_Why?" _She demanded. _"So they can hate me, too?"_

A few more unintelligible words were dispersed, and all of the disgust turned quickly into anger, pride, different levels of acceptance, and distrust.

"_I don't care who you say I am!" _Was the next sentence Revan could recognize. _"I don't care who _he _says I am! I am not, was not, and will never be Revan!"_

Revan's mouth dropped open just as the others did. Mission, however, simply asked if she remembered anything about it. When the woman denied any memories, Mission laughed at the absurdity of the crew and stated that she was friends with _who she is, _not _who she was_.

Revan could see the woman laugh sadly, and a great relief washed over the woman.

And the cloud ripped itself out of Revan's fingers.

She found her eyes open and her hand outstretched before she knew what was happening. She was shaking, she knew, and Mission—a _seven year old _Mission—was standing in her lap and shaking her shoulders.

"Revan?" Kreia's voice was soft and understanding. "Are you all right?"

Revan's eyes finally focused on Mission's worried face directly in front of hers, and before she told herself to do so, her arms were wrapped around the young child and she was hugging her.

"What did you see?" Kreia kept her voice quiet. She knew that startling Revan when she was jumpy like now would be bad.

"Later," Revan rasped, still holding onto Mission. Mission patted Revan's back, insisting that Revan had fallen asleep.

"You were sitting with your hand outstretched for five minutes, then once it twitched and was still for another, and then it happened again! Are you sure you don't sleep walk? I think that's a symptom. You should go see Zelka in the Upper City."

"No, I wasn't asleep," Revan answered. Mission ignored her and continued.

"You know, when _I _have nightmares, my brother gives me chocolate. Would chocolate help you?"

Revan waited until the involuntary shaking subsided before letting Mission back up, only an arm's length away. She sniffed a few times, trying to hold back from spilling everything she saw in an instant.

What shook her the most was the fact that the woman had been _mortified _that they accused her of being Revan. What was so bad about being Revan? She didn't have that hard a time with it, and she'd been Revan her whole life. What could possibly have happened to make that woman deny being Revan?

Maybe something evil happened. It made Revan think of that hypnotic mask.

"I think chocolate would help a great deal," She said. "Let's sneak out and go get some."

"All right, _Revan_," Mission's tone became playful. "I found out your name, so you have to show me how to pick a lock!"

It took Revan a few moments to register exactly how the girl had found out her name. She glanced back at Kreia, who shrugged.

"You trust her, don't you?" The old woman asked. Before Revan could reply, she shrugged. "No matter. You have to trust her now, anyway."

"All right, Mission," Revan stood, pulled the girl up with her. "Let's go look about, huh?"

--

Connan's head shot up. Her hand flew to her head and held firmly, trying to stop the impending headache approaching.

That had been….different.

She'd never had a memory come to her while she was sleeping, before. Everyone essentially assumed after the Star Forge blew up that she would regain her memories through dreams in particular, since that's how she saw them while looking for the Star Maps. But they'd been wrong. The visions would shoot out of her eyes and light up in front of her for everyone present to see. Through some strange anomaly in the Force, they could also hear it, too, though no sound ever escaped Connan's mouth during the trying times.

But this was the first time it had happened while she was asleep. It was rather disturbing, knowing that the memories would not keep away even while she slumbered.

Oh, well. She was awake now. She might as well do something. Maybe Carth was still up in the cockpit and she could go and bother him.

Making her way out of her quarters, making sure not to wake any of the other sleeping people, Connan found her way into the main hold and poured herself a cup of coffa.

She felt the presence before it spoke, but it still made her jump a little bit. Her nerves were always on edge after an intense memory jump like the one she'd just had.

"Hey there," The irony of the situation made Connan laugh. "What can I do for you?"

Connan turned around while sipping at her coffa. Mission had apparently been awake already, and had followed her out.

"Did I wake you?" Connan asked. Mission shook her head.

"Not really." She shrugged. "You were thrashing about in your sleep, and it woke me up. When you left, I just followed you."

"Oh, well, sorry."

"No biggie." Mission waved it off. "Was it a nightmare?"

"Umm," Connan bit her lower lip. "Not really."

"Oh." Mission grew misty-eyed. "Was it a memory?"

Mission never liked watching Connan show her memories. She had said it was because she didn't want to intrude on Revan's life, but now Connan thought she had ulterior motives. Maybe she didn't want to see what horrible things Revan had done, when she'd been so nice to Mission.

Well, that was going to stop.

"I did."

Mission cringed.

"Want to talk about it?" She offered, grabbing her own cup of coffa and sitting at the main hold table. Connan joined her.

"In fact, I do." She sighed. "But first, why are _you _up? You usually sleep like a rock, and me thrashing about in my sleep usually doesn't wake anyone but Carth."

Now it was Mission who shrugged.

"Nothing, really." She insisted. "I just had a nightmare of my own."

"Oh?" Connan couldn't help it. "Do you want some chocolate?"

"What?" Mission jumped visibly, a look of shock across her features.

"A little girl just told me—or part of me, anyway—that when she had nightmares, her brother gave her chocolate." She raised an eyebrow as Mission paled. "Will that work?"

Mission shook her head. "You remembered."

"Only just now." Connan excused. "That was my memory, actually."

"Which time?"

"Pardon?" Connan gawked. "There was _more _than one time?"

"Well, yeah." Mission shrugged. "You've been to Taris a lot. It's only natural that our paths crossed more than once."

Connan was speechless for a moment. She stared at the wall with her mouth open and her eyes wide. "I don't believe it."

"Well, I'm glad it's already out in the open." Mission answered. "I didn't think it was you when we met this last time on Taris, Connan, but you looked exactly like her from what I remembered. Yet you said nothing about it, and Revan was presumed dead, so I put it out of my mind. I'm sorry for not telling you."

"It's all right," Connan admitted. "I probably wouldn't have believed it all that much until I saw it for myself, anyway."

"Hey!" Carth called from the cockpit. He sauntered into the room and leaned on Connan's shoulder. "Anything the matter?"

"Nope," Connan answered. "Just getting my facts straight."

"You know," Mission continued. "You were the first one to teach me how to pick a lock."

"A fact I'm shocked that I actually knew how to do back then," Connan commented. Mission ignored her.

"So, technically," She sipped from her coffa and laughed. "It's _your _fault I'm a scoundrel."

"What?" Carth frowned. "Hon, I thought Griff taught her how to be a delinquent. What's going on?"

"It seems I've known Mission for longer than she let on."

"Delinquent?!" Mission raged, throwing her cup at Carth's head. He bolted back toward the safety of the cockpit. Mission, unrelenting, followed. "I'll show _you _a delinquent! I'll wake everyone on this sorry ship up, you old man!"

Connan laughed.

--

**Date/Time Started: 2/12/08 2:50 PM Central Time**

**End Notes: He's been giving us a lot of work lately; I'm surprised I got this one finished when I did. I'll start the next one tomorrow after I've had time to think about what I'm going to do about it. So until then I'll just go back and review and edit the other few I've got down. Ja ne!**

_**Amme Moto**_


	4. The Hermit

**Date/Time Started: 1/14/08 2:50 PM Central Time**

**Author's Notes: Happy Valentines Day! I realize that when I actually post this it won't really be Valentines anymore, but the thought still counts. I'm still thinking of you guys!!**

**Chapter Four: The Hermit**

Revan sloshed on through the swampy, mossy mess that encompassed the Shadowlands. She paid no attention to the algae sticking to her boots, or the vines that clung to her shoulders, or the leaves that flaked through her hair.

She was too busy laughing.

"Shut _up_, Revan!" Malak called behind her, his mechanical voice ringing throughout the place. "This isn't funny!"

"Of course it is, Malak," Revan answered. "You just don't know how to enjoy yourself. Come on, now, that Star Map isn't going to find itself. Get a move on, pick up your feet!"

"If you tell me to hurry one more time I'll take off _your _jaw!"

"Hey, that _wasn't _my fault. I was gassed with _Neosperin_ and couldn't concentrate. It's your own fault for coming up to me when I had a perfectly able lightsaber in my hands."

Revan didn't let the wave of guilt she felt at slicing his jaw off show as she trudged through the marshes. She really _hadn't _been in her right mind at the time. Those weird things in the caves of Korriban had sprayed her and three other Jedi well and good before Malak and the others found them, and by then they'd attacked each other and Revan killed them all. The rescue Jedi got her sabers away from her and carried her to safety, but not before serious damage was taken on all sides.

"I know what you're thinking, Revan." Malak called from behind her. "And it's no use thinking like that. I _know _it wasn't your fault. It was just a joke; I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's all right." Revan shrugged. "I'm just anxious to find this last Star Map. Once we get it, we can finally come out to the Republic and start doing some good for the people."

"That's true." Malak answered.

They were silent as they wadded through more of the Shadowlands. The Wookies up above had informed them that the Shadowlands held many secrets that would show themselves if they sought them long enough. Not that Revan was inclined to trust Chuundar, really, because the Wookie _screamed _slaver-contract, no matter how much he denied being allied with the monstrous Czerka, but doubtful information was better than _no _information.

"So what do you think happens when we get the last Star Map?" Malak asked from behind her. She stalled, impatiently tapping her feet on the ground. Malak met up with her quickly.

"Well I don't think something's going to jump out at us and scream 'you've won! You've won!'" She shrugged. "We'll have to compile all the Star Maps together to find out where the Star Forge is. Then we have to take it from the people who already have a hold of it and learn how to use it."

"So in other words, our road doesn't get any easier."

"Of course it doesn't!" Revan spat. "There's no possible way it could _ever _get easier for us. We're in for the long haul, Malak. We're stuck."

Malak groaned.

"Oh, it's not so bad as all that," Revan said. "We can get through it. Once the Republic is safe we'll go live somewhere in the Outer Rim."

"All right," Malak agreed finally. "But do we _have _to walk through all this muck?"

"That's why there's only the two of us down here," Revan answered. "Why waste the manpower and lower the morale of the people?" She shrugged again. "Besides, I left my mask and cloak behind, and they probably won't recognize me without it."

It was true. Revan had left her things behind and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. It would have done her no real good to wander around the dark, dank Shadowlands with no kind of vision available. The mask—however awe-inspiring and great—would not allow her to see that well below the Wookie habitat.

"That's true," Malak answered. "Besides, with just the two of us down here, we'll be the only two with the last piece of information, and the Star Forge will be that much harder to find." His voice darkened.

Revan didn't like it when he spoke like that. There were times when he forgot that they were working for the good of the Republic, and would instead try to think about all the power they would gain while they were searching for the Star Forge. It worried her to think that the only one she could come to rely on for the plan to save the Republic was the one most prone to fall to the Dark Side.

"What do you think will happen when—"

"Hush," Revan ordered, holding a hand up to silence him. "Do you hear that?"

Malak quieted down and squinted his eyes, looking to be listening.

"I hear nothing," He replied. Revan shook her head.

"Listen closer, then." She growled.

"I don't have the super hearing senses you have, Revan dearest." Malak droned. "_You _do the hearing, and I'll follow you."

Revan pinpointed the noise—a small clanking sound that strangely resembled a lightsaber—and bolted off into the other direction.

--

Okay, so maybe Revan's hearing was a bit more in tune than Malak's was.

They'd been running for ten minutes through the trees and grass before Malak could identify the sound as well. Pleased that they were going in the right direction, Revan turned on a bit of her Force Speed, quickening her steps. She knew that Malak was still right behind her, but he wasn't nearly as curious about the noise as she was. He seemed to be following her for the sake of following her; that she was interested in something and that it must therefore be important.

Revan didn't like that.

Another few minutes and Revan could see the saber itself, slashing a neon green color through a few trees. Revan slowed to a stop and breathed for the first time in some minutes. Malak stopped as well, and the mechanical huffs that emitted from his metal jaw told her that he was tired as well.

Revan prodded the few vines blocking her view of the saber holder and her eyes widened.

She didn't remember bringing an old man with her after the War.

But there he was, as old as time itself, slashing away at the few Katarn that surrounded him.

It was merely out of instinct that Revan took up her own saber, slashing through the surrounding foliage and joining the attack. She gutted the nearest Katarn to her before the man realized she was there. She could see something like surprise on his face, but after a moment he grunted and continued the attack.

Malak killed another Katarn just as Revan and the old man drove the last few away. Revan constricted her saber and put it back in her belt. She turned to regard the old man, to ask how he had gotten onto her ship, or onto Kashyyyk altogether, but the man spoke before she did.

"I suppose you're wanting me to thank you for your gallant rescue, but don't count on it. I was perfectly capable of driving them off myself, and if you hadn't come along I'm quite sure this old man would have pulled a fine job off of it."

Revan's mouth dropped and her eyes widened. The impertinence!

"I beg your pardon?" She yelled. "I was doing it out of the goodness of my heart, thank you very much, and I was more prone to ask you just what the hell you're doing down here other than your ability to take care of yourself, old geezer!"

_That _caused the old man to raise his eyebrows. He looked her over carefully, and she stood still with her arms crossed and her glare set.

And then he laughed.

"Well, that's certainly a different answer than I expected." He admitted.

"Well, it _better _be," Revan snarled. "How could you think I would ask you for _thanks?_ I'm more likely to ask you for directions than for gratitude."

"And why is that?" The old Jedi asked.

"Gratitude is overrated."

That's when the old man constricted his own lightsaber and tucked it into his belt. He stood straight and stretched.

"Well, that's enough of conversation out in the open." He said. "Come to my hut, and we can continue this conversation. Bring your friend." And with that, he walked off.

Revan exchanged shocked glances with Malak.

"He lives here?" Malak asked.

"That's what he said," Revan replied. "But that makes no sense. Why would a Jedi live down here?"

"Should we trust him?" Malak asked.

"Yes." Revan's answer came out before she thought about it. She blinked as Malak cocked an eyebrow. "I mean, he's old. There're two of us. If he tries anything, we can easily escape."

"All right then, let's go." Malak nodded.

"Wait," Revan gripped Malak's shoulder. "One thing."

"What is it?"

"When we're inside his hut, let _me _do the talking. I'm sure I'll scare him less."

They walked along slowly this time, now that they actually had a way to go.

--

"Well, welcome to my humble abode, such as it is. Pull up a stump and be comfortable. We have a lot to talk about." The old man sat down himself, and stirred the caldron sitting above the quaint fire inside his home.

Revan cautiously sat down, crossing her legs and propping her back up against the hut wall. Malak chose to remain standing, with his arms crossed and his face set.

"So," The old man started. "Who are you, and what are you doing down here?"

"You first." Revan answered.

"I'm older, I get to call the shots," the man spat. "Now tell me."

"No."

"You're so rude for a Jedi."

"I'm _not _a Jedi."

This seemed to stun the man into silence for a little bit. He glanced from Revan to Malak. Then he leaned forward and spoke in a small voice.

"I hate to tell you this, then," His low tone made Revan and Malak lean nearer to him to depict what he was saying. "But you're in for an awful lot of trouble."

Revan raised her eyebrows. So he was one of the true Jedi who thought that if you weren't a Jedi you were a Sith, huh? Well, then. He'd have to catch her, first.

"How so?" She challenged.

"Are you kidding?" The man's voice lost all of its softness. "You're not a Jedi but you're walking around with lightsabers? That's asking for people to mistake you for someone else."

Revan nearly sputtered. _That _was unexpected.

"Trust me, they do that anyway." She insisted. "I'm Revan."

The old man nodded sagely, sitting back and crossing his arms in thought.

"That's a strange name. Corellian?" Revan raised an eyebrow, nodding enthusiastically.

"And I suppose you're some high-and-mighty old man who demands the respect he deserves, since you've no doubt lived here for a number of years?"

The man didn't take it as the jibe it was, instead shrugging aimlessly. "What's there to say? Jolee Bindo is the crazy old man who lives in the dangerous woods. I am content with the impression I give."

"Hah! I'll bet." Revan murmured. "So how long have you been here, old man?"

"I already told you my name, lass."

"I know, but _old man _sounds better than dumb old _Jolee Bindo_."

"You sassy, acid-tongued young child!" Jolee reprimanded.

"You started it."

"I don't know why I'm allowing you to stay in my humble home," Jolee rubbed his forehead. "You're nothing but obnoxious.

"Let me tell you something, what I was _your _age, I didn't do anything like what you're doing to me. I respected my elders. There were many times during my Jedi training when I could have smarted off and been exactly like you are, but where would that have gotten me? In fact, I remember one time when—"

--

Revan now wished she hadn't smarted off to Jolee. Three stories later and he was still rearing to go with more tales of his early years.

But she just couldn't help herself.

"So how young are we talking?" She inquired, tapping Malak's knee to keep him from adding on. It had been so long that Malak had sat down beside Revan and was leaning on her shoulder.

"Let's just say that I was a strapping young lad with hair, and Coruscant was a small town with a well." He laughed at his own joke. Revan smirked.

"Centuries ago, then?"

"Yes, now shush. I'm not through telling you about Master Scritmar the Fascist."

"You're _supposed _to be telling me how long you've been out here, _Jolee_."

"And why would you want to know something like that?"

"Because if you've been out here long enough you'll know where something is, and we need to know where it is, too."

"Ah," Jolee rubbed his chin, laughing. "And you thought you could get that information out of me without a price?"

"What price?" Revan asked incredulously.

"Simply someone to talk to. I haven't talked to anyone in about sixteen years, and I have a feeling once you two leave it'll be near twenty before I talk to someone again."

"Go talk to Czerka," Even when Revan said it they both knew she was joking. One of the ever-exciting stories Jolee had told them was about showing up the Czerka. They weren't that fond of him.

"Oh, sure. Right after I finish my weekly juma juice with Exar Kun."

"And what if you don't know what the hell we're asking about?" Revan asked, raising an eyebrow. "What then?"

"That's when I'm hoping your Jedi training kicks in and has mercy for the old man."

"The old man who could _supposedly _take out four Katarn on his own."

"I was counting on you to not remember that." Jolee frowned. "All right, what did you want to find?"

"We call them Star Maps." Revan explained. "They look like long black tacks sticking out of the ground. There's supposed to be one down here."

"If it's technology and it's down here, then it's got to be pretty ancient." Jolee calculated. "You sure you two aren't doing anything you're not supposed to be doing?"

"I never said that." Revan shrugged. "We need to find it, though. It's really important."

"How important?" Jolee asked.

"Important enough so if you know where it is and won't tell me, I'd be more than okay with sifting through your mind until I find it." Revan challenged. Jolee rubbed his chin again and frowned in thought.

"Invasion of privacy," He said to himself. "That really _isn't _a Jedi-like quality."

"Correct."

"Any reason you want to find this big black tack?"

Revan sighed.

"It's complicated, and an awfully long story, and worse still, you might not believe it and go tell someone."

Jolee held his hands out beside him. "I have no one to tell," He explained. "And I still have things to see in this large jungle; I doubt I'll be leaving anytime soon."

Malak and Revan exchanged glances warily.

"Well…."

So Revan began the story. It started as a mission to Tralus, where Kreia and Revan had taken a mission to stop the slavery—which was illegal in the Republic—when the Mandalorians attacked a planet that would have taken only a short amount of time to travel to and assist. Revan had not even felt the turmoil going on outside Tralus, and when they came upon the War wreckage, there was nothing there but a desolate planet. The Mandalorians had left nothing.

That made Revan mad, and she instantly set up a team of Jedi to defy the Order and save the Republic from the Mandalorians. And it worked. It took a few years, but they ended up making the Mandalorians come to a screeching halt.

But they found something behind the Mandalorian attacks. They found some remnant of an ancient Sith Lord who had manipulated his way back into the living world as a spirit. This spirit was the one causing the Mandalorians to go to war, and the one who was going to clean up the Republic with its apprentice once the Mandalorian War was over.

No one believed Revan and Malak and the other Jedi when they said that something was lurking in the shadows. Or rather, they believed, but did nothing for it. So, they turned.

They had to find something that would be powerful enough to block the Sith spirit from attacking. One idea had been to find the ancient blueprints from the Selkath, from something called a Death Star. But no, they would have to build that, and Revan wasn't so sure they had the time.

So why not go for something already built?

Revan had heard stories of an ancient civilization, which had taken over the galaxy and was solely responsible for the expansion of the galaxy. They built a large battle station called the Star Forge, which gained power from the Dark Side. It was the epitome of a large-scale Battle Meditation, able to produce mass, energized troops while the other side cowered.

Their plan was to find the Star Forge and turn some people against the Republic. While they thought they were hindering the Republic by taking out Senators and Generals (who would ultimately end up hurting the Republic), they were actually helping the Republic get stronger.

The only problem—that Jolee needed to know about—was finding the Star Forge.

"And so we need this last Star Map so we can find the Star Forge."

"That's a bad idea, lass." Jolee cautioned after she finished her tale.

"Why do you think?"

"You can't steep yourself in the Darkness that long and expect nothing to happen." Jolee explained. "Trust me on this. You're a bright young lass, and one of the most intelligent people I've seen in my life. I would not like it if you went Dark Side on everyone and ended up trying to take over the Republic yourself."

"Well, there _is _a chance that we'll fall," Revan shrugged. "But it's for the Republic. As long as I remember that, I'll be all right."

"And what happens to the people you corrupt?"

"I'm sorry for them," Revan snapped. "But sacrifices must be made in war. I sacrificed the only life I've known that's worth having for the Republic, and I'll be damned if I'm the only one sacrificing things."

"That sounds bitter." Jolee remarked.

"You'll have to forgive her," Malak cut in for the first time. Jolee nearly jumped at his metallic voice. "Her Master was recently gassed with _Neosprin. _Sad to say that she survived, but her eyes didn't."

Jolee frowned. "_Neosprin_? Where were you to come across _that _dangerous plant?"

"A cave on Korriban." Revan explained. "The last Star Map we went after was said to be there, but it didn't say where. We searched through all the caves after infiltrating the Sith Academy, and there were many of the dangerous plants around. Unfortunately we didn't know what they did until half a dozen of us were covered in the noxious stuff."

"Hmm." Jolee scratched his head. "_Neosprin _grows here, too."

"Does it?" Revan cocked an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you'd tell us anything about it, would you?"

"I have an antidote here," Jolee stood from his stump and walked to the other side of the hut. He rummaged around through the cabinets and frowned. He began murmuring things about the condition of the vials he's made during the past two decades, and reprimanding himself for how unorganized he really was. Finally, he pulled out a small glass bottle with a forest green liquid.

"There," He set it next to Revan. She picked it up and stared at it. The glass was heavy; Revan guessed that the potion in the vial was thicker than it looked. "I have more, so don't worry about taking that. You analyze that and synthesize more."

"Thanks." Revan said in earnest. "I'll get right on that."

"Well," Jolee refrained from sitting again, and instead stretched. He grasped his lightsabers—which he had placed on the table near the door when they arrived—and clasped them into his belt. "Let's get going."

"Get going?" Revan repeated, standing slowly and stretching. They'd been sitting and talking for a number of hours already. "Where are we going?"

"Well, you're obviously going to go on with this stupid mission whether or not I help you, and something in me would rather you remain unscathed for the time being." Jolee explained as he opened the door. "So we're going to find a Star Map."

--

"You don't look like you should speak Basic." Revan crossed her arms at the computer guarding the Star Map.

"_Forgive me for not coming up to standard." _The alien-like hologram retorted.

"It's fine." She waved her hand. "I don't suppose you'd let me get past you and over to the Star Map over there?"

"_Of course._"

Revan and Malak frowned. Usually they had to fight something or go underwater to find one of these things. They didn't expect the thing to really _let _them have the Star Map.

"_Just as soon as you answer a series of questions."_

Ah, there it was.

"What kind of questions?" Revan asked, crossing an arm.

"Infernal questions. It keeps telling me that 'I'm not of the right mindset' and shutting off." Jolee answered. "Good luck getting it to work for you."

"Well you're a big help right now," She joked.

"_These questions will help me consider your personality, and help determine whether or not you deserve to have the knowledge of the Star Forge."_

"We did this on Dantooine already," Malak growled.

"I think the Builders are just paranoid, really," Revan crossed her arms and sighed dejectedly. "All right. What did you want to ask us?"

"_You face a particularly hard predicament." _The hologram started. Revan nodded attentively. _"You and a Wookie friend are captured together and separated for interrogation. You are asked which of you performed a crime. If you blame this Wookie—this _Zaalbar_, he serves five years while you serve three. The same deal is given to him. If no one talks, you both serve two years. If you accuse each other, you serve three. What do you choose?"_

"What? Zaalbar?" Revan hit a knuckle to her head. "I haven't seen him in _years_. How do _you _know about him if I haven't thought of him since I left Taris?"

"_I pay attention to everything going on on Kashyyyk. During your stay in Rwookrrorro, Chuundar took the liberty of explaining to you his life history, as a sort of honor of gracing his village with your presence."_

Revan sighed. "Oh. I wasn't paying a lick of attention to him."

"_Indeed. Now answer the question."_

Hmm… what would Revan do?

This was a classic example of how much her life sucked. She knew what she thought of the situation the hologram was projecting to her, and didn't know what she would do unless she knew the person. Unfortunately, since the hologram was smart enough to name names, she was forced to come to one conclusion and tell the hologram another.

"I would talk against him." She nodded justly. "Definitely. I have too much to work on right now to risk spending any amount of time in prison."

"_And if he talked against you?"_

"Please, I'm a Jedi. I'll just kill whoever has the distinct honor of trying to catch _me _and let both of us leave."

"_Very good. Protocol dictates that I give you what you want."_

Revan wasn't listening. She was thinking about how she _would _have answered if given the choice. It all depended on someone's disposition, really, and how much she liked them. Her important work didn't matter, when she met him, Zaalbar had been a nice person and she wouldn't make him go to prison for anything, and if she remained silent she was sure he would, too. Besides, even if he didn't, she could always do what she said she would do and bust herself out.

"How did I get caught in the first place?" She asked the machine.

"_Irrelevant."_

"Is not." She took a breath. "Come on, now. I want to know how I got caught."

"_That information is irrelevant."_

"No, it isn't."

"My, you could argue with a brick wall!" Jolee's voice behind her almost startled her. She had forgotten that there were others around her. "Do you want the cotton-picking Star Map or don't you?"

Revan glowered. "Hang on," She answered, holding up a finger. "I want to reconfigure this guy." She made her way up toward the huge machine generating the hologram.

"Revan, you know nothing about technology, why do you always insist on messing with things?" Malak asked from behind.

"I don't know _nothing _about it," She clarified. "I just don't know a lot. Go get the Star Forge location already, this'll take a while."

--

"There! Done."

Even Revan was shocked that she'd finished in so little time.

"What did you do?" Jolee asked. Revan smirked.

"I just reconfigured it so that it wouldn't open the Star Map for anyone but us. That way no one can find it again."

"That's dangerous," Jolee insisted. Revan shrugged before bowing justly.

"It might be," She agreed. "But since I fully plan on destroying the Star Forge once the Republic is safe and sound, no one else needs to know where it is, now do they?"

"You've got all your bases covered." Jolee joked.

"Hey, you don't get to be a Rouge Jedi for nothing," Revan admitted. She flashed a smile. "Now, I'm almost positive that I owe you one full conversation." She turned to Malak. "Head back to the ship. Tell the others that I'll be back in a few hours. Take the time to stock up and get ready for out flight. We're heading for the Star Forge tomorrow."

--

Connan slapped her face angrily, trying to get the moisture back into her eyes. This vision hadn't been as long as some of the others, but it was just as trying.

And now things were getting just creepy. Had she known _everyone _who was now a member of her crew before? She would have asked them, but she didn't want to let everyone know that she'd had visions of everyone else, too. The coincidences would be too staggering.

So Connan made herself stand up and exited the storage room, hoping to limp to the cockpit and finding Carth, where she would fall over into the chair next to him and gripe about something.

She staggered around the winding hallway of the ship and started to feel her way toward the Main Hold when she slammed into someone.

"Goodness, lass!" The man barked out a laugh. "Thank the Force your lightsaber wasn't out or you would've killed us both."

Connan tensed as she realized it was Jolee. Why was her luck _always _against her?

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jolee grabbed her shoulders and shook her playfully, making her head loll back and forth tiredly.

"Nothing," She excused, reaching up to rub her eyes again. "Nothing much, really. I just had another memory, and—"

Before she could say anything else Jolee turned and dragged her into the medbay.

"Aw, come on! It wasn't even that _long_. I was just going to the cockpit and—"

"And ignore the frailty of your eyes, like you always do." Jolee growled. "Now hush up and sit on the table. Don't make me tell you a story."

"Whatever you tell, _please _don't tell about Master Scrimtar the Fascist." She shook her head. "I've heard enough about him for today."

Jolee, who had turned around to the cabinet and was rummaging around for something to medicate Connan with, stopped short and turned. Connan went on.

"You know, you could have _told _me that the reason you knew who I was was because you'd seen me before."

"Why _else _would I know you?" Jolee spat. "I lived in the Shadowlands for twenty years; I'm sure you probably weren't even _born _at that time, or you were at least very young. I was cut off from the world as you grew up; I knew nothing of you or Malak until both of you came to visit me, and after that was just speculation and the things I could get from the Wookies hunting in the Shadowlands."

Connan shrugged. That _did _make sense. Jolee shook his head and scowled. "Whatever. Here, take this."

"I'm not going to take those stupid eye drops, so you might as well—"

"Then it's a good thing they're not eye drops, you insolent child." Jolee snapped. "Drink this. I made it the other day. It's practically guaranteed to make you cry."

Connan stared doubtfully as the green concoction in front of her, but the premise of not using the eye drops was too much. She grabbed for the potion and downed it, trying not to taste it.

"Yuck!" She screeched. "It tastes like someone died in it!"

"Wait a few moments, will you?" Jolee asked, leaning up against the counter and crossing his arms.

In a matter of seconds, tears were forming in Connan's eyes much against the will. They spilled out onto her cheeks and moisturized her eyes well enough.

"Wow," She sniffed, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "It worked!"

"Now, would you rather drink _this _every time you have another memory, or would you rather take the eye drops?"

"This," Connan pointed to the awful drink. "I'd rather take this than poke my eyes out."

Jolee laughed. "I thought you'd say that." He waved his arms. "Now go! Weren't you about to go bother the pilot or something?"

Connan beamed, wrapping her arms around Jolee and hugging him quickly. "I'll come talk you to death tomorrow," She promised.

"I think I'll be fair enough competition for that," Jolee countered. Connan laughed and ran off.

--

**Date/Time Finished: 2/29/08 2:23 PM Central Time**

**End Notes: Happy Leap Day! Next week we have one day solely for TAKS ((hiss)) testing and after that is Spring Break. I know when I actually post this it'll be long after Spring Break, but I just want to wish you all a happy Spring Break anyway.**

_**Amme Moto**_


	5. The Exiled

**Date/Time Started: 2/29/08 2:26 PM Central Time**

**Author's Notes: I find myself without the time to do much in this class. You ever have the feeling that you're free to do one of many things, and from all the things you want to do you can't find one to actually **_**do**_**? That's how I feel in this class. The computer is a temptation that I would always succumb to if it weren't for that spiral I started using for HPDM one shots. **_**That's **_**what's slowing me down, really.**

**Oh yeah, and I've decided that this one will be a two-parter chapter. The first one will be Zaalbar oriented, and the second will be someone else. Try and guess. Go ahead.**

**--**

**Chapter Five: The Exiled**

Supposedly, walking along the surface of Taris was one of the most calming things to do for someone. Never mind the pollution, muggers, and overall guilt that there were people suffering beneath your feet, really. Those things were muffled out by the beautiful sky, the helpful droids wandering around aimlessly, and the simply gorgeous view of the world off of one of the apartment balconies.

Even still, there were people walking around, conversing and laughing, as if nothing bad ever happened to them and everything was right in the world.

It made Revan sick.

An Ithorian was seen venturing out into the Upper City, seemingly to find a certain human and pay him some money. Not two seconds after his arrival he was bombarded by six children. _Children! _They kicked at him and spat on him and called him names.

So, naturally, Revan could not help herself.

"There you are!" She called to the Ithorian loudly, running up toward the group of cruel children. "I've been looking all over for you. Where have you been?"

The Ithorian looked shocked. **"I—uh—"**

"Well, no matter," Revan waved a hand, thoroughly ending the subject. "You're here now, that's all that matters. The troops were getting worried, you know. What would have happened if a Mandalorian walked up to you and I wasn't there to protect you? Force, they would have my hide!"

The Ithorian still looked to be at a loss for words. The children spoke up instead.

"Master Jedi, you know this worthless Ithorian?" One of them asked, kicking out savagely at the poor alien.

"Of course I do!" Revan grinned. "This is one of our helpers for the Wars, don't you know?"

"Huh?" The children all frowned. The one who'd spoken glared at her, trying to catch her in a lie.

"Yes! He's here to bring us cultural information about certain worlds so we can best choose which need more defense than others." Revan continued happily.

"What are you talking about? This _alien _is doing something _important?_" A redhead called from the middle of the group. Revan rolled her eyes and groaned.

"You don't know much about Ithorians, do you?" The children shook their heads. "They are very good with intergalactic plant life, so we keep this one around so we can diversify and help heal the worlds we come by that have been ravaged by the Mandalorians."

"Really?" One of the younger, more impressionable kids asked.

"Indeed." She said. "This soldier here volunteered to help us while we're staying here on Taris."

"But—"

"Don't argue." Revan ordered. The children shut their mouths. She turned her voice cold and demanding. "And I should reprimand you for harassing one of the aliens trying to save this world and others, as well."

The children meeped.

"We didn't mean to—"

"Yes, you did." Revan growled. "You shouldn't be so quick to judge that an _alien _able to do something, just because they are the minority on this planet."

"Why not?" The leader yelled, his voice arduous. Revan chuckled and kneeled to the boy's height.

"I've been on other planets that think as you do." She whispered. "We have to cover our faces and speak their languages with impeccable accents, otherwise they'll know we're human and tear our faces off." She flicked the suddenly-uneasy child on the nose. "So be nice to the ones that let you pick on them. At least they don't have claws. Could you imagine what would happen if you were picking on a species with claws?"

The children paled and bolted.

Revan laughed, almost uproariously. Then she turned to the Ithorian. "Are you all right? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"**I have a few scrapes and bruises," **The Ithorian answered, rubbing his arm thoughtfully. **"But I will live."**

"Well I can't have that," Revan swished her hand in the air, and the Ithorian gasped. He raised his arms and spun around in circles.

"**You healed me!"** He sounded awestruck. **"You must be a very powerful Jedi indeed."** Revan shrugged.

"I practice." Revan looked around. "So what are you doing up here in the Upper City? You must have known that someone was going to come around and mess with you,"

"**That did not matter," **The Ithorian shook his head. **"I sensed that I had to come to the surface, and I did. I suppose **_**you**_** were the one I was looking for."**

Revan blinked. "You were looking for me? Who are you?"

The Ithorian bowed. **"Forgive me. My name is Chodo Habat."**

Revan smiled and bowed regally. "I'm Revan. Now that you've found me, may I ask what you plan to do with me?"

"**Only if I can ask what you were planning to do on Taris in the first place,"** Chodo insisted, motioning for Revan to follow him to the Lower City. She followed gratefully.

The Lower City was much like she remembered it from her previous missions there. Grease clung to the walls and sparks sprang to life every now and then, adding another light or two to the dim lanterns peppering the hallway. Chodo Habat walked down one hallway toward Javyar's Cantina. Revan shrugged and followed.

"Kree said that someone down here would be able to help us on our way to the Mandalorian Wars, and I kind of got too excited and left on my own." She explained. "Will you be able to help us?"

"**My own plans involve me staying on Taris for the moment," **Chodo replied.

"Well that's good, because we have no intention of leaving for the moment," Revan jumped in. "There are a few things happening on this planet that we don't agree with, and if we fix them, we might be able to pull more people to our cause."

"**Then it seems our intentions cross." **Chodo commented as they turned a corner. **"I am also concerned with the slavery inhabiting this planet. And," **He added for good effect, **"it seems that the ones behind it are part of the Exchange."**

Revan cringed, half addled with frustration and half filled with excitement. The Exchange meant that there were some tough people around that she and Malak would have to beat. She wouldn't be looking forward to that.

And yet, pestering the Exchange always made her day. They were so predictable, and if one dabbled with the Exchange enough, the fight would be over quickly.

"**The Exchange is aligned with the Black Vulkars, more than likely." **Chodo continued.

"So what do you think we should do about it?" Revan asked.

"**There was nothing **_**I **_**could do about it," **Chodo answered. **"By myself, at least. But with you and the other Jedi here to help, I'm afraid we'll have to resort to Force to get what we both want."**

Revan laughed.

"I'm sure _you're _sorry it has to come to that," She smirked. "But I'm the smart kind of Jedi who realizes that someone who is addicted to a certain practice will not give it up unless enforced."

--

Javyar's Cantina was as crowded as always; the patrons clung to the walls and kept to themselves, drowning in their dangerous drink and their self-pity. No one ever considered the life of the poor people in the Lower City. Even the tenants of the Middle City had better living conditions. They didn't have neon as their only source of light, nor did they have swanky, low-key Bith who would play for two-cred gigs with their minimal musical talents.

It really wasn't a place someone _wanted_ to live in.

Revan looked around curiously. "What are we doing here?" She asked. Chodo Habat grinned, which Revan found very creepy coming from both of his mouths.

"**We're meeting Moza, my assistant. He was sent along yesterday to find information about the Exchange and the Black Vulkars. He's to meet us here in about an hour." **Chodo sat at a table in the dancer room—probably a predetermined table—and motioned for Revan to do the same.

--

Two hours they waited and still no Moza appeared. Revan sighed, glancing around and wondering how many pazaak games she could have won during that time, and how much more money she would have had to spend on something for Kreia. The old crone's birthday was coming up, and though her old Master _hated _it when she got things for her birthday, Revan did it nonetheless.

"**I am worried," **Chodo stated, rubbing a hand down his face. **"Moza is never late. And is most certainly never **_**this **_**late."**

"I wonder," Revan sighed. "How old is Moza?"

"**Ithorians live a long time compared to humans," **Chodo Habat explained. **"He is still young compared to you. His age is the equivalent to around five of your human years."**

"Hmm." Revan rubbed her chin. "That seems a bit foolish. Why would you send a five year-old equivalent to human age out on such a dangerous mission?"

"**Moza has the means to take care of himself," **Chodo answered. **"He might be young and sometimes a bit brash, but he is my assistant; in your eyes he would be seen as a Padawan to me." **Revan nodded. **"I trust him."**

"That's all well and good," Revan replied. "But things sometimes happen. Are you sure this is where we were supposed to meet?"

Chodo nodded. **"This is where we were going to meet up after he gathered all of his information and I found you."**

"Hmm." Revan began feeling around the table. "I don't like the looks of this. If he's as prompt as you say he is, and you trust him to get the job done almost perfectly, then—"

She stopped as she felt a cold piece of metal under the table. She tugged at it; relinquishing the hold the bottom of the table had on it and pulled it into view.

In her hands sat a datapad.

Revan frowned, turning the datapad on and flicking her eyes across the message shown. She _tsked _and shook her head.

"Oh, dear."

"**What is it?" **Chodo asked, sounding worried. **"Is Moza hurt?"**

"No, Moza's fine for the moment," Revan answered. "But the Vulkars have found him out. They're holding him hostage in their base."

"**Oh, no!" **Chodo wailed. **"What are we going to do?"**

What _was _there to do? They couldn't very well smash into the Vulkar base on their own; there were only two of them, and Revan was _not _going to wait for Malak to decide to come join her with a pack of Jedi. She _told _him that she would take care of the slavery problem by herself, until the time to fight actually came in. Fewer mistakes were made that way.

So they wouldn't find help with her team of people. What next? They would still have to break into the Black Vulkar base. The problem was _how _they would do it and _how _they were going to get Moza out without killing one of their own people.

So how could they do that? Strike a bet with the Vulkar's enemies, of course.

Revan grinned.

"We're going to the Hidden Beks."

--

Well, it certainly had been a while.

It's been what, three or four years since she was last inside the Hidden Bek base? She remembered bringing Brejik down for kidnapping all the rich kids of the Upper City and trying and ransom them back. It'd been both Griff and Gryph's fault for the whole thing, really, but the little Twi'Lek child called Mission was making them follow her and her brother.

But the guard still recognized her.

"Connan!" She called, obviously not catching Revan's confused glance at the name. It had _also _been three or four years since she'd used that name. Ever since Mission had the gall to call it old, she never had the gumption to try and start using that wonderful alias again.

"Hi," She replied. Luckily, Chodo Habat remained silent. He wasn't as oblivious to world as she thought. "I was wondering, can we go in and talk to Gadon?"

"Where's your Master?" The woman looked around. Revan shrugged.

"Kr—Traya decided to stay aboard the ship this time around." She explained. "Look, this is really important. We have to find something, and if you help us we'll help you."

"You always did know the right buttons to push to make the Swoop Gangs listen to you." The woman laughed. "Go in and talk to Gadon if you want. I'm sure he'll be excited to see you."

Revan beamed.

"Thank you."

--

Gadon was just as surprised to see Revan as everyone else was. He greeted her with a yelp and a large hug. He whapped Revan on the back roughly and made her cough. When he released her, he was grinning.

"I was wondering when I'd see you again," He stated. "It's been a while. I hope you're here to fend off more Mandalorians."

"If we have time," Revan answered. "Right now we're trying to stop the slavery trade."

"The guard said that if we help you, you'll help us." Gadon stated, rubbing his dark chin. "What will you give us for helping you with your mission?"

"The slavers have been connected to the Exchange, as you undoubtedly know," Revan answered. "But I'm not sure if you know that the Black Vulkars are helping in their trade."

"I had no idea, though it isn't at all surprising." Gadon replied.

"Well, my friend and I were planning on getting a bit of information from an associate of his so we could sneak inside and kill them quietly, without a fuss." Revan continued, pacing as she talked. "However, it seems that our efforts have come to nothing. Our informant has been captured by the Black Vulkars."

"So what do you need from us?" Gadon asked.

"I don't want to start a war between the Swoop Gangs," Revan started delicately. "But I'm sure you're the only gang that would consider helping me against the Vulkars. I get men and you have one less gang to worry about. Do you think you could lend me some unofficial members, who can deny loyalty if need be?"

Gadon hummed, squinting and staring at the ceiling. "I have two or three people who fit that description."

"Great!" Revan clapped her hands together. "Would you mind if my Ithorian friend stayed here? He's not much of a fighter, and I would hate to have him lose his life in the fray of something he'll be useless in."

"Of course he can stay here. I'll have him some rooms in a moment." Gadon clapped his hands and a Bek member came and led Chodo away.

"I'll be back for you when we have Moza," She called to him.

"**Thank you, my friend!"**

"So who's coming with me?" Revan asked.

"I have two people who fit your criteria. One is a Twi'Lek named Zaerdra. She's been waiting for a chance to prove herself to our group, and I think this is the type of test she's been waiting for. She'll defend both your cause and your life as well as her own."

"Sounds good," Revan nodded.

"And the second is a Wookie. We met him a few months after you left. Mission is the one who brought him in." Revan grinned at the name. "His name is Zaalbar. He might not be very inclined to help at first, but Mission and I can bully him into it. He's a sucker for helping out when it comes to slavery."

Revan nodded.

"Is there any chance I could see Mission?"

"Sure! She's a full eleven years old now. Her older brother Griff left a few years ago to gain fame and fortune on some _other _planet, but left her here. She hangs out with Zaalbar all the time. They're like best friends." Gadon explained. He clapped his hands again. "Dass, go retrieve Zaerda. She's usually around the south apartments at this time. Simon, go find Mission and Zaalbar and bring them to the meeting room."

--

Revan sat in the meeting room sipping a glass of juma juice as patiently as possible. Every now and again her comm. link would vibrate inside her robes and she'd be forced to turn it on and give Malak a synopsis of what was happening at the time. Finally she told him if he tried to contact her again she'd break his jaw off. He hadn't contacted her since, so she figured she was taken seriously.

It's not like she was waiting for a long time. It takes time to convince people to do things, and she'd only been in the room by herself for a half and hour before someone stormed in.

This someone was a Twi'Lek with dark purple lekku and the same color eyes. Revan raised her eyebrows as the Twi'Lek sat down next to gruffly, crossing her arms and pouting.

"Let's get something straight," The Twi'Lek growled at Revan. "You're probably just an ignorant do-gooder who wants to do the right thing but does it the wrong way. That's why you're hiring us out, because you can't to the fighting all by yourself."

"**You have beautiful lekku,"** Revan changed the subject, _and _the language from Basic to Ryl. She outstretched her hand. **"I've never seen any that majestic color of purple before,"**

The Twi'Lek stared in shock. Then she smiled. "Hmm, you might not be as ignorant as I accused you of." She shook Revan's hand. "I'm Zaerdra."

"I'm Connan." No sense in letting on that she said she was someone else the last time she came.

"Zaalbar should be along soon," Zaerdra informed her. "Mission is still trying to get him to agree to it. Once they have, both she and Zaalbar will meet us in here and we'll decide on our best route of attack."

"Great. I love outside input," Revan smiled at Zaerdra's frown.

"You already have a plan?"

"Of course I do," Revan answered. "I like to know what I'm doing _before _I get into trouble."

"What is it?" The Twi'Lek leaned in close. Revan laughed.

"Why would I tell you right now? I'd have to say it all over again when Zaalbar came into the room."

Zaerdra laughed too. "Point taken." She examined Revan closely, enough to make Revan want to preen. "How old are you? You don't look older than twenty."

"I'm not even," Revan answered with a grin. "I'm only eighteen."

"Eighteen and you're already waging war with the Mandalorians?"

_Not only that, _Revan thought. _I'll be _leading_ the war._

Before Revan could reply the door _shucked _open again and Revan found herself with an armful of Twi'Lek child.

"Connan!" The small girl squealed. "I _knew _I'd see you again!"

Revan laughed, wrapping her arms around and effectively hugging Mission. "How have you been, my little Mission?"

"Great! After Griff left I found someone else to be my friend, so I've been all right." Revan pulled back and grinned widely at Mission's blue face, which was shining.

"Good," Revan answered. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to visit more often. The Jedi Council hadn't been too ecstatic about our wandering off from the Academy, and we've been stuck with filing in the Archives for a while now."

She left out the part (both to Mission _and _to the Jedi Council) that Kreia was innately a historian, and she wanted nothing more than to read through chronicles of times and to file Archives throughout the Jedi history. Kreia often stated that it gave her a sense of power that actual strength couldn't give. While reading through the history of the Jedi, she can look for further weaknesses to explain to Revan and tell her which ones were the most prudent and which ones were still alive in the Jedi today.

Of course, in the last few years when Revan dragged Malak off to learn more about the Force from all sorts of other teachers, she never cut off contact from Kreia. She was her vent, when the other Masters were disapproving of the way she dealt with things and reprimanded her to the point where Revan wanted to kick something until it broke.

Kreia had been the first one Revan went to when she decided that the Mandalorian War had become too dangerous to the Republic to simply ignore, like the Jedi Council told them to. She knew Kreia would agree with her when she stated that she was going to end the war, and she was going to take any and all of the Jedi that agreed with her in the subject. Kreia had been the first to sign up. Even better, while Malak and Revan were the strong, visible forces driving people to go with them into war, Kreia had been in the shadows, convincing the people who were unsure; talking to the Masters and diverting the Council's attention with other matters that they were sure to deem more important. She was really a key part of their plan.

"Well," Mission's voice brought Revan out of her thoughts. "You're here now; that's all that matters, really." Then she turned to the doorway, where a huge, chocolate-colored Wookie stood. She waved at it and he waved tentatively back. "This is Zaalbar. He's going to help you free Motter and the slaves."

"_Moza_,"Revan corrected. Mission waved it off.

"Hey, you say _gizka_, I say _geezka_."

"**No, you don't," **Zaalbar growled.

"It's a phrase, Big Z." Mission shot back.

Revan turned to regard Zaalbar. **"You should know that if you don't want to do this, you don't have to. Right now we're trying to free Moza, an Ithorian who has information about where the slaves are going to be and when. Once we have that information we'll be able to plan a full-scale attack on the Mandalorians and the Vulkars."**

Zaalbar seemed to force himself not to step backward in surprise. **"You speak Shyriiwook!"**

"**Of course I do," **Revan warmly said. **"I find your language the most fascinating, that's for sure. All the others use words; this language uses a series of growls and grunts that are impeccably placed. It's simply awe-inspiring."**

"Well, if you're aiming to impress _everyone _in the hideout, you're very near succeeding," Mission droned, trying to dismiss the impressed look on Zaalbar's face.

"**I admit I was skeptical about gallivanting around another Gang Base because a good friend of the Hidden Bek's leader asked for it," **Zaalbar scratched the back of his head. **"But you're obviously very cultured about things like this, and if you can speak languages other than Basic, you also know things about other customs. I'll follow you."**

Revan smirked. "Good. Zaerdra and I are glad to have you join us. Let's go over some ideas."

--

Revan smacked on her gum loudly, looking around curiously at the entrance. She kept herself from squirming in her new outfit somehow: she was adorned in Changeling clothes, with long, draping, maroon cloth billowing from her arms and a thick turban-like hood wrapped around her forehead, just above her eyes so they could see her huge, expectant look.

In one gloved hand she kept a blaster, making sure to cling to it like she sometimes sees others do when they're excited and unsure of what to do first. Her other arm was wrapped around Zaalbar's furry arm.

Zaalbar's arms were banded together at the wrist with cuffs, and he made a show of cringing every time he shifted his hands around, making certain the guards knew he was being chaffed. He wasn't very happy, they would think.

Zaerda had a hold of Zaalbar's other arm, and she stood with her back straight and her blaster constantly ready for trouble. Her look was hard and she acted as any other adult who had to worry about an adolescent would.

"**Can I help you?"** The Rodian on guard at the Vulkar doors asked. Revan grinned.

"Yeah," She squawked. "We gots this furball here. Found 'im in da Unda-City." She waited until the Rodian got a good look at the helpless Wookie before continuing. "We hears you gots the means to buy this here feller from us. Might'n da Vulkars take on dis poor creature?"

Zaerdra groaned, taking her arm from around Zaalbar's and leaning over to clout Revan around the head. Revan reacted with a cry and a rub of her head. Even though they'd rehearsed it, that'd hurt.

"What have I told you about _manners_, you insolent child!" She scolded. "And that _accent_, it's a wonder your mother got a penny out of me for you with that annoying way you go about talking."

"'M'Sorry, ma'am," Revan sniffed appropriately. "B-But I'm jus _so _eager ta get dis furball off'a our hands; he's already attacked me twice!"

"I know," Zaerda agreed. "He's attacked me a few times, too. But if we want to get _anywhere _in this slavery business we're going to have to be tough."

The Rodian visibly perked up at that, as Revan knew he would. The Vulkars only had a few things on their mind, one of them always being money. If they figured that they could get a Wookie slave for less than he was worth without much trouble, they'd jump at the chance.

"**No need to worry," **The Rodian kindly interrupted, holding a hand up and patting the air next to Revan, who had begun to bawl quietly. **"You can get in. We'll gladly buy your Wookie from you. Sad to say our leader isn't here as of now; he's taken a large group of people into an Undercity escapade and won't be back for some time. But there are others here who have to power to complete the transaction you are looking for."**

Zaerda brightened. "Thank you, kind sir!"

The Rodian moved aside and opened the door so the three of them could pass through.

"I can't believe that worked." Zaerdra whispered as they walked into the Base.

"I told you people always fall for the 'crying youth' bit. Even the mean people tend to underestimate people like that." Revan winked.

"**How much longer do I have to stay like this?" **Zaalbar asked.

"Until we find Moza and free him. Once he's in our hands we'll set you free so we can take out people and leave without a fuss." Revan explained. "It shouldn't take too long. We'll just have them direct us to the force cages."

"**All right, but I'm not going to wait much longer." **Zaalbar whispered. Revan shook her head.

"You won't have to. I'm sorry we have to chain you up like this, though. I'll buy you a meal when this is over."

--

They'd directed the three of them to the force cages readily enough. Not many of the people there were willing to try and take control of a Wookie, and the two of them seemed to have the beast under their power.

Revan turned the corner and saw the force cages. Stuck in one of the first ones was a tired-looking Ithorian. Revan raced toward him.

"**Stay back, human. I'll tell you nothing that will betray my herd or my cause." **The Ithorian held up a hand and shook it. **"I will not tell you a thing."**

"Then it's a good thing I'm here to bust you out," She whispered. "Where are the controls?"

"**How can I be sure you tell the truth?" **The Ithorian asked.

"Your name is Moza. You're looking for information on the slaves being sold to the Mandalorians and the like. Chodo Habat is looking for you." She winked. "Now where are the controls?"

The sentient studied her for a long moment, and by then Zaalbar and Zaerdra were standing behind her. Zaerdra had removed Zaalbar's chains, and he was flexing his hands experimentally.

"**There is a power consul at the end of the force cages," **Moza finally answered. Revan nodded, turning toward Zaerdra and Zaalbar.

"You two stay here with him, in case something happens. If someone walks by, make something up."

"Aye, aye." Zaerdra saluted.

Revan marched over to the controls and stared aimlessly. It would be too much trouble for her to slice into the thing and risk getting caught. Besides, it took too many spikes for her to accomplish, and she didn't know how much time they would have to escape with.

She didn't like computers that much to begin with. All the colored cords that seemed to do the same thing but were actually worlds different? Malak had been trying to explain the concept to her, and the words were only _now _just starting to sink in. She didn't think she'd be able to properly slice into the computer, take what she'd need, and leave it like it'd never been touched before.

Revan glanced back at Zaerdra, Zaalbar, and Moza. They were staring at her expectantly. She shrugged and let out her sabers, slashing through the entire consul and completely destroying it.

The force cages shut off immediately, and Moza slipped out and stretched.

"Are you insane?" Zaerdra asked. "What if that made the cages _explode_?"

She hadn't thought of that. Not really, anyway. She simply went through her options and the one that seemed best simply leapt out at her. She innately knew it wouldn't kill the Ithorian, because she felt as if the Force had told her so, but she knew Zaerdra wouldn't take it that way.

"Seriously?" Revan asked, putting on her _what kind of question is that? f_ace and cocking an eyebrow. "You think I hadn't thought of that? I had a protective field around him to save him if that had been the case."

Zaerdra stared at her long and hard for a moment before shrugging and slapping Revan on the shoulder. "I'm sure you knew what you were doing."

"Of course I did!" Heh. Revan was such a good liar.

"**Let us get out of this place before we do any kind of bantering," **Moza stated. Revan turned to him, looking him over.

"You're not hurt, are you? They didn't do anything to you, did they?"

"**I was tortured for information, true," **Moza nodded, kindly thanking Revan with a glance for her sympathetic cringe. **"But I told them nothing, and the knowledge I have is still mine alone, until we reach Chodo Habat and we discuss plans to free the slaves."**

"Good," Revan smiled. "The exit is that way, but that way's loaded with guards. We'll have to go out the back way, near the sewers."

--

Back at the Hidden Bek base, Moza sat at the huge meeting table in a comfortable chair next to Chodo Habat, who could not stop fawning over his assistant.

"**Oh, Moza, I'd thought the worst!" **He had cried when they returned.

They'd had relatively few accidents. Actually, no one had seen them. Every time a guard came up, Zaerdra and Revan would come forward and act like lost slavers, with Zaerdra boxing Revan about the ears, saying it was _her _fault they were lost. They'd give directions and they were out in a bit.

Now, though, Revan had called Malak down to the Hidden Bek base with them. He was seated next to her, his hand sometimes tracing hers underneath the table. He still had the ability to make her turn red at the most unnecessary times, it seemed. She continually had to look away to keep from sputtering.

"**There is to be a slave auction next week," **Moza explained. **"It will be in Sector Seven, where the Swoop Races are usually held. There will be quite a few slaves and even more perspective buyers."**

"I think this would be a good time for the Jedi to announce they were on Taris and start battling the Mandalorians," Revan took up. "The Mandalorians rely heavily on slave labor to carry around their weapons and such; they're expendable so they can be out in the battlefield and they don't complain so much. And since the Republic refuses to play dirty, the Mandalorians have shots to brainwash their slaves into thinking that their way of life is the right way, and they'll become bonzai soldiers in no time."

"That's true," Mission added. Revan still couldn't believe that she'd annoyed Gadon enough to make him let her attend the meeting. "But what about the other buyers who won't be scared off by the perilous attack from the Jedi? There _are _people out there like that, you know."

Someone coughed loudly, and Revan distinctly heard a "Gamorreans!" in between the start and finish. The ten or so people in the room laughed.

"Really, though," Revan continued. "Our objectives here and _both_ to free the slaves and to drive away the Mandalorians. We'll certainly stop our assault on the Mandalorians if it meant that we were going to free the slaves."

"It's better to do the harder things on a mission, first," Malak jumped in. "However, if we somehow stumble upon the easier task, we'll do it so we don't have to go looking for it again."

"**So basically, you'll still help us." **Chodo paraphrased. Revan nodded.

"**I will join you." **Zaalbar interceded. **"I have seen many people fall to the slaves in my time, and if there is a way that I can stop it, then I will do whatever is in my power to help."**

"Good! I'm going too!" Mission called.

"No, you aren't." Malak shot back. "This is no place for a ten year old. There will be fighting, and we wouldn't want to get you hurt."

Mission scowled mightily at the man. Revan was half amused. For some reason, Mission didn't like Malak at all.

"Well," Revan thrummed her fingers together. "Perhaps you could help us after all."

"Really?" Mission asked, leaping up from her seat.

"Really?" Echoed Gadon. Revan grinned.

"I have a plan."

--

Connan scoffed aloud, completely insulted. Her memories were rough. They were heartbreaking. They were shocking, and sometimes they even made her laugh. But this was the first time a memory had left her with a complete and _utter _cliffhanger.

Connan stood from her seat in the cargo hold and left, feeling around for that disgusting drink Jolee invented for her. After ingesting the awful concoction, Connan flopped down onto one of the Main Hold chairs and rubber her already-watering eyes.

"You okay?" Carth asked from behind her. Connan nodded.

"Yeah," She sniffed. "Just crying."

"Another memory?" Carth rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes." She answered, feeling Carth sit down next to her.

"You want to talk about it?" He whispered, rubbing her shoulder soothingly. "I'm always here, you know."

Connan laughed. "I know, but there's really no need this time." She continued at Carth's confused glance. "This one was about Zaalbar."

Carth raised his eyebrows curiously. "Was it? And what did Zaalbar do with you?"

"We freed an Ithorian called Moza from the Black Vulkars, surprisingly using Zaerdra as well." Connan grinned at Carth's chocked back laugh.

"What a small galaxy," He remarked. "What happened after that?"

"I'm not sure," Connan replied, shrugging. "There's no way to know the ending until it comes back."

--

**Date/Time Finished: 4/1/08 2:55 PM Central Time**

**End Notes: APRIL FOOL'S DAY!! Though it probably isn't anymore. I don't know when I'm going to post this. It might be somewhere around Christmas. Hahaha! I just cliff hanger-ed you!! You'll have to wait for the next one.**

**Gah, right after Spring Break (It…. Was…. AWESOME!!) they pile all this work onto us. I haven't been on in a week. Can I get through four chapters in two months? The pressure's on!**

**So anyways, just review and stuff. I feel like I'm in a good mood today. I look forward to getting reviews talking about who the next chapter is for. Whoever guesses it will get their own one shot!!**

_**Amme Moto**_


	6. The Slave

**Date/Time Started: 4/1/08 2:57 PM Central Time**

**Author's Notes: It's still April Fools Day. I would have liked to tell you that I was saving the second part of Taris for later, but I don't really differentiate between chapters on here, so we'd all lose track. And anyway the last period of the day is about to end, so I'm just wasting time. I'll get into this chapter tomorrow.**

**Ah, yes, I forgot. This chapter is **_**indeed **_**about little Juhani. Mood-swinging, sideways, issue-layered Juhani.**

**Good times. Let's get started.**

**Chapter Six: The Slave**

Revan watched in silent amusement as Malak tread back and forth across the room, stomping around and trying to look menacing. She sat with her knees brought up to her chest and her arms folded around them, and she was picking at her robes again. She'd just had a nice shower, so her hair was dripping wet and cascaded around her regally, creating black curtains that would soon turn rusty-colored.

Her hair always did that. She never knew why. Every time she got her hair wet, it would turn jet black. Then when it dried it would turn back into its puffball-like status, reddish-brown and frizzy.

And Malak wondered why she pulled it up all the time. He was bald; he didn't have to go through what she went through: dreading humid planets and rainy days. The length and the thickness of her hair served as enough heat for her in the cold; she didn't need more of a humid or wet climate to help her.

Maybe she could go back to Dantooine long enough to steal some of Bastila's shampoo. For some reason, that stuff was the only thing that could keep Revan's hair under control. It was really annoying—having run away from the Jedi in order to save the galaxy— that she hadn't the forethought to pinch some hair control products before she had to leave.

Anyway, her stealth skills were pants at any rate, and if she went back, they'd probably lock her in a padded room with all the other Force rejects. She couldn't have that, not with—

"Revan!" Malak growled, kicking the bottom of her foot with his. "You're not even paying attention, are you?"

"Can't say that I am." Revan replied, shrugging. She shook her head, whipping water all over her friend. His growl turned into a snarl quickly. "What were you talking of, love?"

"That little Twi'Lek!" Malak roared, pacing the room yet again. "What cheek she has for only a ten year old! She couldn't even be nice enough to call me by my name. She just makes me want to—to—"

"Hug her and teach her how to shoplift?" Revan supported.

"_No,_ tie her up and lock her in a force cage. She's _ten_, Revan. How could you let her help us?"

"She's got the marks of a good actor," Revan explained, standing up off the ground in favor of the bed. "And we need slave support for this to work."

"But it's dangerous." Malak repeated. "Just because she has a…way with words, and a stubborn disposition, that doesn't mean you can just let her into our mission without expecting something to happen. What if she gets hurt?"

"Someone will pay." Revan answered. "Look, it's not like I don't know the risks. She knows them, too. We went over them before she went off to bed. And after that I personally assigned a few people to keep watch of her. And besides," Revan smirked now, and Malak cocked an eyebrow curiously. "It's not like she's the only one who volunteered for this. There are a few others who are helping. She's not alone; she'll be protected."

Malak sighed. "I wish I had your confidence."

Revan chuckled. "You wouldn't know what to do with it." She ran a hand through her wet hair, catching all the tangles and _yanking_. "Hell, _I _don't know what to do with it most of the time."

Now it was Malak's turn to laugh. "What, you do everything by ear?"

Revan nodded. "I just close my eyes and choose the one that seems right at the moment."

"What if it wasn't?"

Revan's eyes flashed. "If, say, I choose one side over another, and the it turns out that the side that I picked is really the side I shouldn't have, I have nothing wrong with changing sides. After all," She sneered. "I'm here for the good of the Republic. If I'm on the wrong side, the Republic can only suffer for it."

Malak walked up to where she sat on the one bed in the room and sat next to her. "What if tomorrow goes wrong?"

"It _won't_, and as long as I keep thinking like that, nothing will." Revan's sneer disappeared, forming instead a timid smile. "And if, on the extremely rare off chance, something bad happens, I can always kill a few people and make it all better."

**XXXXX**

Revan opened the door and nearly backpedaled, her arms instantly full of Mission.

"I found the _best _clothes last night!" Mission cried. Revan checked a laugh. "They'll definitely look like I'm a slave."

"Good," Revan congratulated. "Go try them on and let me see. I think Malak and I will want some breakfast. I'll be back in a minute."

Mission rushed into Revan's room and closed the door. Revan quietly snickered, circling herself to look for the hall to the cafeteria.

Five minute later Revan returned with a few items of food that would keep Malak and herself comfortable until they reached the ship and Kreia again. Upon entering the rooms, she had to make quick use of her Force Powers, pushing the food onto a table while she doubled over and laughed.

Malak and Mission were arguing again.

But not _just _arguing. Mission had apparently thrown things at Malak—Malak would be much too proud to throw something at a _little girl_­—and they'd landed against the wall, either broken or tainted. She was now throwing her Pazaak cards at the man, taking one at a time and flinging it expertly. Malak had to form a protective shield around his face; they kept hitting his forehead.

"You think this is _funny_?" Malak whined. "Stop her!"

"Me?" Mission threw two cards at once. "_Me_?! _You _were the one who called me a bratty little kid who's going to mess up as soon as we get there."

"I did _not_," Malak answered. "I just said you were a bratty little kid."

"How _dare _you call me little! I could beat you with my lekku!"

"No you couldn't. I'm too powerful for a child to beat."

"Yeah? Well just you wait! One of these days I'm going to get a Cross of Glory because of you!"

"Who told you about the Cross of Glory?" Revan asked. "They're Republic medals."

Mission stuck her tongue out at Malak before replying. "My brother said our parents used to talk about the Republic all the time, and that the Cross of Glory was the highest medal awarded to Republic heroes."

"Oh, yeah," Revan nodded. "What happened with Griff?"

Mission scowled. Revan thought it didn't look that good on her. "He went off with some cantina rat named Lena last year."

"Ah."

Revan took the two steps to end up in front of Malak and shoved him onto the bed. She promptly summoned his food toward them and pushed it into his hands. "Eat this."

"But—"

"No _buts_." Revan stressed. "You're going to be fighting people today, and I don't want you complaining while we're all incognito."

She turned to Mission, who began spinning around in her new outfit. The tattered, dirty brown color certainly did blend with her and make her seem more unnoticeable. If she put a meek look on her face and hunched her shoulders, they wouldn't be able to tell her apart from anyone else.

"You look awesome." Revan laughed at Mission's beam. "I'm tempted to try and buy you myself when we get there."

Mission hit her arm playfully. "You would not!"

"All right," Revan patted her on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get started."

**XXXXX**

Revan roamed through the crowd, taking in the sights and sizing up the mass of people she would have to dissipate. People pushed and shoved at each other to get through; they pulled at the leashes lashed around potential slaves' necks to inspect their mouths; they argued with the vendors to try and let them buy their sales before the auction, and were angry when they were met with refusals. There were also Mandalorians, of course. They never passed up a chance to make new slaves out of people, and since they'd pretty much overrun the planet already, no one was really surprised to see them there.

This wouldn't be an easy task.

She's already deployed Mission, Zaalbar and Zaerdra into the crowd as slaves. They were in the back, about to go on display for the planet to see. Hopefully that's where they'd get the most help.

Revan looked to her side. Malak caught her eyes a few hundred meters away and nodded. He'd scoped out the area as well, and saw the number of people they'd be up again. She gave a nod in return and turned to look somewhere else. Up ahead of her, an old, gray-haired woman with bright hazel eyes glanced her way. Revan nodded at Kreia and motioned up for the stage. Kreia turned and stared for a moment, counting the number of people behind the curtain of the stage. She returned Revan's gaze and held up her fingers until she reached the right amount.

Fifty slaves in the back. And that was just the first auction for the day.

Revan shook her head, quickly taking stock of the number of Jedi they'd had to infiltrate the ordeal. No one had left. They were all waiting for her orders.

Well, nothing better to do. Revan made a few steps forward and checked her watch. They still had a few hours before the auction; before they could officially stop anything. Might as well shop around and gain some support for the outside.

The first slave Revan approached was a Twi'Lek boy. He looked no older than Mission was, and he shook mightily from head to toe, though he tried his hardest to look like he wasn't. He kept his gaze to the ground and his fists clenched. He seemed fascinated with his shackles around his ankles. Revan walked up to him and to the vendor standing next to him.

"And what have we here?" She asked in her nicest voice. The shaking of the Twi'Lek boy became extremely apparent to both her and the vendor, because the dealer chuckled nervously.

"Ah, you'll forgive the child, won't you? He's only been a slave for a few weeks, and he doesn't have the trade down yet."

Revan couldn't understand how anyone could ever "have the _trade _down" at any point in time, but she refrained from saying so.

"I might," She answered. "Let me talk to him alone."

"Afraid I can't do that," The vendor bowed deeply. "I don't want the little child to run off if he had the chance."

So they didn't trust her. Good. "You will leave the two of us alone." She waved her hand in the air. The merchant studied her carefully.

"I'll leave you two alone." He replied, checking his watch. "For ten minutes."

Revan nodded politely while the merchant walked off from her and the slave.

"**Please, ma'am," **The boy stuttered in Huttese. **"I don't want to be bought or sold. Please, ma'am, I'm only nine."**

Revan knelt down to the boy's eye level and reached up. She took his chin in her fingers and brought his eyes up to hers.

"Listen to me," She said gently, so as not to scare him. "Do you know what Jedi are?"

The boy still didn't look her in the eye. He kept his small, light blue head to the ground and nodded. **"Yes, ma'am. Nearly everyone here does, but we've never seen any before."**

Revan could hear the question in his voice. _Why do you want to know?_

"And do you know what the Jedi stand for?"

The boy ventured a shrug. **"I know that they're good fighters. 'Hani talks about the Jedi a lot; she says her parents knew a lot about them."**

"And who is 'Hani?" Revan asked. The Twi'Lek's shiver returned.

"**Please ma'am. I don't want to get anyone into any kind of trouble."**

Revan reached out and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder, and winced as he flinched back.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not going to get anyone into trouble." She whispered.

"**You're not?" **The Twi'Lek still didn't trust her. She shook her head.

"Listen," She repeated. "There are Jedi _here_." She withheld a smirk at the boy's jerk. He finally looked up to meet her eyes. "We're going to stop this franchise. When are you being held for auction?"

"**I should already be up there. The man who holds me wants me to have more time out in front of people." **The boy seethed through the last part. **"Ma'am, are you a Jedi?"**

"I am," She answered. "There are many of us among here. We've even infiltrated the back stage."

"**Why tell me this?" **The mistrustful look was back in the boy's eye.

"We're trying to gather slave support." Revan explained. "Will you help?"

The boy seemed to consider it. **"The vendor that is trying to sell me half-understands Huttese, so I bet I can talk to some of the other slaves without him understanding until we reach the stage."**

Revan nodded. "Good. Now," She straightened up. "Who was this 'Hani you were speaking of?"

"**Oh, that's Juhani. She's a Cathar slave girl. She's probably already up on stage by now."**

Revan pulled a bit of food out of her sack and gave it to him. The boy snatched it from her and began to eat hungrily. "The merchant is returning. I'll see to it that you have a place to go after we free everyone, if you don't have a place to stay."

The Twi'Lek talked between chews. **"The Exchange killed my parents. I have no where to go."**

Revan squeezed his shoulder. "Don't go anywhere until I find you, then."

The vendor returned, a snaky grin plastered to his features. "So?"

"So I'll see this little one later." She winked, making the vendor think she was talking to him when she was _really _talking to the Twi'Lek.

**XXXXX**

Cathar…. There weren't that many Cathars left in the _galaxy_, let alone Taris. Finding one backstage wouldn't be so hard.

Revan approached the Duros stationed in front of the door leading behind the stage, where all the slaves were kept. The greenish alien crossed his arms and snarled.

"**Go away, human." **He growled. **"You won't get past me. No potential buyers in the back."**

Revan waved a hand in the air. "I'm an official. You will let me pass."

The Duros' eyes darkened. **"You're an official. I will let you pass." **And he stepped out of the way. Revan stormed into the backstage area and looked around.

There were slaves _everywhere_. There were so many of them, they had to crowd together to give the auctioneer and the vendors room for themselves. They were squished together and obviously very uncomfortable.

For a moment she wondered where Mission and the others were. She knew they were somewhere in the crowd, trying to gather support for their cause, but she didn't know specifics. Finding them in this crowd of diverse sentients would be hard.

Finding a Carthar slave with little more than a name and a gender would be harder.

Revan closed her eyes thoughtfully and spread her mind out, looking for Mission. It didn't take long to find the girl, trapped in a corner with a few of the other children. There was a lack of fear in that corner, so obviously Mission had been talking to them. There was a bit of disbelief and contempt surrounding it, too, so maybe they weren't believing everything she said.

Well, time to change the kids' minds.

Revan pushed her way through the crowd, taking care not to knock anyone to the floor. She didn't know how unstable any of these slaves had been reduced to over the years, and being the cause of a fight would do no one any bit of good.

Finally Revan found herself in front of a gaggle of children. She looked at the group, huddled into each other, totally unaware of her presence, and cleared her throat.

She didn't mean to scare them, really. She was about to ask for Mission and she didn't want to croak or anything, since she'd been without water for a very long time and she thought her voice might crack at any moment. But the effect it had on the kids was slightly disheartening. They reared back into the corner as far as they could go, pushing each other to try and get the farthest back.

Except one blue Twi'Lek, who held a hand up and yelled for attention. The others turned to look at her, instantly quiet and unmoving.

"No! This is the one I was telling you about!" She called. "She's a good guy!"

The children stared at Revan, as if expecting her to pull back or retreat as if it was a lie. Instead she smiled and beckoned for Mission to come up to her. Mission pushed roughly through the children and ran to meet her. Revan crouched down to her level.

"So? What news do you have for me?"

Mission beamed. "These kids behind me are with us, but some of them don't think you're really a Jedi. They think you're just lying about it."

"Do they?" Revan raised an eyebrow. "Look. I need to find someone. A—"

"Okay, but first I want you to meet someone!" Mission disappeared into the mass of kids before Revan could stop her. She returned a moment later with a slightly scared child, their hands clasped together. The child shook slightly—as all the others did, of course—and kept herself protectively behind Mission. She looked to be considerably younger than Mission; perhaps six or seven, eight if she was just short.

The child was a Cathar.

"She wanted to meet you." Mission said. "She's heard of Jedi before, but she's never seen one. This is—"

"Juhani." Revan interrupted. Juhani reeled backward, her furry skin puffing up as if she was frightened. "I know. One of the slave boys out front told me about her. She's who I was looking for."

Juhani opened her mouth and spoke meekly, as if she wasn't sure if talking to a Jedi was allowed. "My parents used to talk of Jedi."

Revan nodded. "My name is Revan." No sense in lying to the girl; it wasn't like she was going to go and talk to Gadon any time soon. She held out a hand. Juhani stared at it for a moment before clasping it with her own claws.

"Juhani."

Revan looked over Juhani's head to the others in the group. "So, how many are there?"

"Around twenty." Mission answered. "Most of them were _just _sold into slavery, and their spirits haven't been broken yet. Zaalbar and Zaerdra have been having a terrible time trying to gain adult support. The adult slaves don't think freedom is possible anymore."

Revan shook her head.

"Are we only going to take the twenty?" Mission asked.

"No," Revan replied. "We're going to take everyone. We're just going to give the twenty or so weapons."

"Master Jedi," Juhani sounded hopeful. "You're really going to try and free the slaves?"

"Of course I am." Revan answered. "And it's _Revan._"

"But why?" Juhani asked. "There's no reason for you to become involved with our problems."

Revan frowned. "Think of it like this: everyone only gets one life in the whole galaxy. Now, how fair would it be to have someone as cute as you a slave for life, only living to make other lives easier? Where is the justification in that? You could be whatever you wanted to be, you don't have to be a slave just because they forced you." At this she flicked Juhani's nose playfully.

Juhani rubbed her nose as if it'd been cut. "Anything?"

"Of course!"

"Even a Jedi?"

Revan thought for a moment. "I see no reason why not." She replied. "There are age limits, of course, and if you were human you would be a bit too old for the job," She paused. "But Cathars live considerably longer than humans do. You're the perfect age to begin training." She grinned at Juhani's wistful look.

"That would be great." She heard Juhani whisper.

"But we have to keep our sights on what we're doing now." Revan placed a hand on both Mission's and Juhani's shoulders. "Tell the children that when the curtain rips open, they're to make a run for it. Juhani, you tell them to follow Mission; she knows the way safely out. Mission, don't you forget how to get out."

"I've been here longer than you have. I think I know my way around Taris." Mission retorted. Revan squeezed both of their shoulders.

"Good. I'm counting on you."

**XXXXX**

It happened quickly, really. One of the children was picked to start the auction, and it happened to be Juhani. She sent a horrified look toward Revan, who winked and gave her an affectionate shove toward the curtain.

Revan then located Zaerdra and Zaalbar, who had accumulated a small body of adult slaves willing to revolt if they had the means. She then smuggled in the Hidden Bek members with weapons concealed under their armor.

"Now," she instructed the slaves. "These are to protect yourselves if someone comes at you. You're _not _to attack anyone. When we give the signal, run like hell. We'll allow those with no where to go onto our ships and give them a place to be if they wish."

She heard a few sighs of relief. She didn't think these people had _anywhere _to go once they were freed.

She looked behind the curtain to inspect on what was happening with Juhani. There were a few people bidding for her, especially one particular man with a crooked leg. Every time someone bid on the poor Cathar child, he would raise the bid again. He seemed intent on winning her.

Revan scanned the crowd in front of the stage in search of her comrades. Malak made eye contact with her and his eyes glinted as she nodded curtly. He raised a hand in the air and swished it once, powerfully. Twenty more hands met his in the air and suddenly the stage splintered on the edges, pushing the alarmed buyers backward.

Revan rushed to the front of the stage and dislodged the auctioneer's hands from Juhani. She held the girl protectively behind her and said in a loud voice: "This auction is _over_. Sorry if you didn't get to buy who you wanted, but we're closing this down. Officially."

Blasters were in people's hands in a moment, all trained at her. She stared straight forward and smirked at a haughty laugh.

"Oh? And what makes you think we'll listen to you, kid?" A man in Mandalorian-clad armor cried out.

"I am a Jedi," Revan stated, ignoring the collective gasp of the onlookers. "Anything I see that's unlawful is under _my _jurisdiction. And I say that this is over. Go home!"

The Mandalorian who spoke before grunted in amusement. "_One _Jedi? You're joking, right? What can one Jedi do against everyone else here? And a child Jedi, at that. I bet I've seen more battles that you ever will."

"Are you so sure?" Revan sounded truly curious. She pushed her mind into his for a moment, just enough to grasp onto a few surface thoughts, and grinned. "I assure you; I would put up a much better fight against a Basalisk than the Althiri did."

The Mandalorian guffawed. "Cheeky kid. Look, this is a futile attempt by yourself. It'd take an army to stop this." Revan smirked.

"I can provide that."

The cue hadn't been given, but at that point it didn't have to be. Multiple bodies leapt into the air at the same moment and landed gracefully on the platform. Dozens of lightsabers were called to arms and whirled around menacingly.

The Mandalorians were shocked into silence. Revan smirked at the sight. "Now," She called. "Things are going to change around here. You're all going to leave, and _no one _is being sold."

"You can't do that!" Cried out the man who had been voting continuously for Juhani. Revan skimmed the surface of his mind. _Xor_. She'd remember that. "These are _our _slaves!"

"How about this?" Revan twirled her sabers in her hands. "Either you leave within the next five seconds or get caught in a firefight."

Suddenly the Duros who was guarding the stage entrance bolted through the curtains with his arms in the air.

"**The slaves have escaped!" **He cried. **"They're all gone!"**

Revan laughed. Mission had done as well as she thought she would have.

"What about me?" Juhani whispered.

"You stay in a corner when the fight starts." Revan replied. "I'll protect you."

"No, we can't allow this!" The Mandalorian who spoke to her shouted. "Largo, head them off toward the Upper City. Agrax, search for stragglers through the Undercity. The rest of you, kill the Jedi!"

The Mandalorian who had previously been speaking to her raised his blaster and fired. Revan moved her saber in the way and deflected it back. She shoved Juhani behind her and shot forward.

The familiar sound of blaster shots filled the air around Revan as she divided the room into two segments in her mind. One part was for innocent (or, at least unarmed) people who were fleeing and were not to be killed, and the other consisted of Mandalorians. She also kept a small spot in her mind open for Juhani, who was doing just as Revan asked and scrunched up into a small corner of the stage.

The people who weren't looking for a fight were soon gone, and the whole place was filled with blaster shots and lightsaber retaliations. Revan herself made her way forward, sensing the Mandalorian who'd spoken with her coming closer to her, as well. He chunked his blaster to the ground and slashed a vibroblade through the air, connecting with Revan's in the middle of battle.

Revan kicked at the Mandalorian and whirled around behind him to stab him in the back. The Mandalorian parried and smashed his hilt into her nose. She lunged backwards, narrowly getting her nose out of the way in time.

"There are more of us than there are of you, child," The Mandalorian taunted in a gruff voice. He slashed at Revan's legs. She leapt in the air and kicked his chest, knocking him backwards. "How can you expect to win this?"

"I'd prefer not to tell you right now, if that's all right." Revan answered, a grin playing on her face. She giggled at the Mandalorian's agitated snarl and skipped backwards, reveling in the other's frustrated movements as he followed. "I'd prefer not to spoil the surprise."

The Mandalorian came at her again, this time pushing her backwards with his shoulder. She let him, instead using the disproportion of her balance to spin in a circle and end up behind him. She kicked him in the bottom and watched as he fell forward.

"Now you're just messing with me," The Mandalorian growled as he stood.

"Indeed I am." Revan replied, touching her lightsaber to his vibrosword and holding them there, testing strength. "It's all part of the fun."

"Who _are _you, and is there any way I can talk you into joining our side?" The Mandalorian asked. He pulled his sword back and lunged at her. Not expecting it, he sliced open her arm before she could stop him. He smirked.

"I'll tell you if you survive." Revan whispered.

"How could I not?" The Mandalorian answered, swinging the sword to knock her head off. She blocked and attacked in turn. "We have many more people."

"Do you?" Revan acted surprised. "So gang members don't count as people now? Are they like the slaves?"

"What are you talking about?" The Mandalorian asked, completely baffled.

The doors flew open, and member after member of the Hidden Beks flowed into the area, each with a blaster set to kill and firing at the Mandalorians.

The Mandalorian she was fighting cried out in shock. "Fall back!"

Revan moved her arm in a circle in the air. "Block the exits!"

Bek members stood regally in front of the doors to leave, their blasters set and their eyes determined. The Mandalorians looked around helplessly.

They hadn't been expecting a fight in the Lower City of Taris. Most people were terrified of them, and the battle Revan had started had taken them completely by surprise.

Revan smirked in the silence and raised her voice to be heard.

"Now, which one of you here is the leader of this fine group of Mandalorians?"

The Mandalorian Revan had been fighting stepped forward, his fists doubled.

"It seems we've caught you unawares." Revan taunted. "An extremely unfortunate occurrence, believe me. I was hoping for more of a challenge from the people who have been effectively destroying the Republic."

"Don't mock us."

"I'm the farthest _from _mocking." Revan insisted. "But I would like to ask you a favor."

This piqued the Mandalorian's interest. "What makes you think I'd do you a favor?"

"Because I know a few things about Mandalorians." Revan answered. She reached back with her mind behind her to feel the other Jedi gathering around her, keeping behind her to show she was the leader. Their sabers were still ignited, and poised to attack at any moment. She could feel Kreia at her side, slightly behind her, nodding in encouragement. "And I know you're men of your word."

The Mandalorian laughed. "And what is this favor you wish to ask of us?"

"I want you to leave Taris." Revan answered. "As soon as possible."

"Oh, really?" Now it was the Mandalorian's turn to be nonchalant. "And what makes you think we'd do _that_?"

"Because I want you to send a message to Mandalore the Ultimate." Revan replied.

"And what would that be?"

Revan pointed her lit saber into the air as high as her arm could reach. It was soon joined by all the others behind her.

"Tell him the Jedi have joined the War."

The Mandalorian coughed roughly. "We will do what you asked." He agreed. "But on one condition."

"Yes?"

"I want your name." Revan smiled.

"Yours for mine." She extended her hand. The Mandalorian gripped it firmly.

"My name is Candorous, from the clan Ordo."

"I'm Revan." Revan's smile turned toothy. "And we're going to beat you."

Candorous laughed. "We'll see."

**XXXXX**

Revan didn't move until all the Mandalorians left the slave trade area, then she turned and made a beeline to where she could feel Juhani huddled.

She indeed found the little Cathar to be hunched in a corner with her hands over her heads. Revan knelt down to the small child and laid a hand on the girl's shoulders. Juhani flinched.

"Hey." Revan shook her gently. "Come on, now. I'm sure you have somewhere to be. The fight's over. Up you get." She tugged at Juhani, pulling her upright and smoothing out the Carthar's tattered dress.

"It's over?" She sounded hopeful. "Are we free?"

Revan beamed. "Indeed you are. Are you all right? No one hurt you, did they?" She sent a healing wave of Force over the girl just in case.

Juhani, not being prepared for the gesture, gasped and shivered. "I'm unhurt. How did you do that?"

Revan shrugged. "A simple Jedi trick." She saw Juhani's eyes light up and smirked. "I see you're still intent on becoming a Jedi."

Juhani nodded vigorously.

"Good." Revan mussed Juhani's hair. "I can see you will become very important later on. I would take you to Dantooine myself, but they don't exactly hold me in the highest regard. If I can have someone take you to Dantooine, you promise me you'll pursue this?"

If Juhani could nod any more her head would roll off of her shoulders. "Nothing in the galaxy could make me happier!"

"Then come with us," Revan tugged on the girl's sleeve. "We'll get you food and respectable clothes, and then I'll assign someone to take you to Dantooine."

Juhani followed sheepishly but compliantly.

**XXXXX**

Connan shook her head and looked about. It certainly didn't _feel _like the cargo hold. She definitely wasn't sitting on the floor. When her vision finally returned, she could make out a chair in front of her. She was sitting at a table.

Ah, _now _she remembered. She'd been sitting at the table in the Main Hold, conversing with Carth when a memory took her by surprise. She hadn't had time to move to her own private spot.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. If she'd been in the cargo hold, she'd be able to call one of those disgusting drinks to her to make her cry; because Force knew she needed it. Her eyes were dryer than Korriban in the summertime.

"Looking for this?"

A soft clink was heard in front of her and she focused what little sight she had at the new addition to previously-clear table. She took the cup and downed the contents, careful not to taste anything.

Connan waited until her eyes began watering and cleared her throat to speak.

"I was wondering where you went." She told the man in front of her.

"Yes, well, after you went and picked Juhani up, I figured you'd be breaking loose soon, and you wouldn't be very happy about your eyes, so I went and got this for you." Carth sat next to her.

"Thanks."

"So what was it this time?"

"Didn't you watch it? You just mentioned Juhani."

"I saw it; that doesn't mean sounds come out." Carth shook his head. "That would have been creepy."

Good, that meant Carth didn't know that the Mandalorians were led by Candorous.

Connan laughed. "We freed Juhani and the other slaves from Taris. Most of them ended up joining the Republic against the Mandalorians, since they had no where else to go."

"And Juhani?" Carth asked.

They both whirled around as another answered. "As promised, Revan secured a ride for me to be taken directly to Dantooine, where Quatra started my Jedi training." Juhani joined them at the table. "I apologize for interrupting, but I feel that this is partly my business."

Connan nodded. "This is strange. I'm having memories of everyone here." She continued at Carth's frown. "This is the sixth memory I've had of someone from this ship."

Carth raised a completely surprised eyebrow. "Who is left?"

Connan counted off. "Candorous, T3-M4, and HK-47."

Carth scowled. "How likely is it that you've seen _all _over them?"

Connan considered telling him about Candorous for a moment. But just for a moment. "Not very," She really answered. "But since I _did _create HK-47, I'll have to have _some _memories of him being there. "

Juhani nodded. "That's true." The glint in her eyes showed she knew what Connan was hiding. "Carth, it is your shift now."

Carth glanced at the clock. "You're right!" He stood, pressed a quick kiss to Connan's head, and bolted.

"So," Connan thrummed her fingers into the table.

"So…." Juhani took Carth's place at the metal table. "I owe a lot to you, you know. Especially for freeing me in the beginning. If it weren't for that, I never would have been here in the first place."

"Juhani, you don't need to thank me." Connan answered. Juhani placed a hand over hers.

"No, I think I do. You've done so much for me, and I'll do my best to try and make it up to you."

Connan smiled. "I know you will. And I thank you for it." She stretched. "Do we have any Tarisian Ale? All these memories make me want to drink."

**XXXXX**

**Time/Date Finished: 4/17/08 2:42 PM Central Time**

**End Notes: Yeah I ended it poorly I know. Blarg. But I didn't have a way to finish it. And I suck at writing old Juhani. I'm better at the scared little kid Juhani. Lol.**

**Also! I'm considering doing a Defying Gravity, Too. It's like the sequel or something. It'll be explained when I get to it, but you have to admit that Revan has met every single one of the members of KOTOR II crew, too. Of course I'll either skip HK, Mandalore, and T3, or use other memories, but I can make it work. It'll make sense. Especially for those of you who've read "Dancing With Accents"…. Gah my stupid old works. ((Is shot))**

**So review and I'll update again! Oh, and tell me which one you'd like to see next. I have three more to go and I'm not sure which to do next. Tell me which order you guys want them in and I'll put them like that. Otherwise I'm going to guess.**

_**Amme Moto**_

**_! UPDATE ! 8/10/08 7:38 P.M. Central Time: I owe jedi-girl-butterfly and Queenofinsanity one-shots. Don't forget to put them in!!_**


	7. The Assassin

**Date/Time Started: 4/17/08 2:45 PM Central Time**

**Author's Notes: I'm hoping to get some work done before the bell rings. I only have fifty minutes to write these things, and only when I'm done with work. Whoo, next year will be fun, too. I won't be able to write on anything but in free periods, on Fridays on the second semester for the last two periods. **_**That'll **_**take a while. Oh well. That's then, this is now. On to the works! ((points))**

**This chapter will be short, by the way. Sorry about that.**

**Chapter Seven: The Assassin**

She picked up the wrench. No, that was wrong. She put it down on the table and picked up the hydrospanner next to it. Wait…. You couldn't even _use _hydrospanners on droids, could you? She looked back at the datapad.

Yes, you could. You could use hydrospanners on anything.

Okay, but that wasn't what she needed. She threw it behind her and overlooked the rest of the instruments at her disposal. She needed something that would weld two wires together. Why couldn't she find it?

Behind her came the mechanical—maniacal, now—laughter of her Apprentice Malak. She turned and glared at him. His pale face and yellow, piercing eyes gazed into hers, and she couldn't tell if he was disturbed or not about her eyes. She couldn't remember if she'd remembered to use the Force to change the color. Were they yellow, or the same brown they'd always been?

"_Master_," Malak droned. "You're horrible with building things. Don't try and build a droid. Let one of the people lower than you do it. That's what you _do _with power."

Good. Revan silently sighed in relief. Her eyes were yellow. If at any point she was discovered as a Light Sided Jedi, it would be the end of her. Malak would kill her or make her kill him, and she didn't know if she could take that. Evil though he may have been, she still loved him, and killing him was out of the question.

It wasn't like she had to keep her eyes yellow _all _the time. She rarely ate nowadays, so she was pale and clammy enough for that, but changing her eyes had been a challenge. She took lessons from Kreia—possibly the only Jedi in existence who knew of her original intents (Malak would have been included, but he was no longer part of her plans, having fallen)—and learned how to change her eye color if she concentrated hard enough.

She finally brought herself back to the conversation and scowled. "I want to learn how."

"But you don't _need _to learn how."

"What would be the point of trying to get someone else to do it?" Revan griped, turning around and grabbing a miscellaneous tool. She would _make _it work. "They'd just do it wrong, and I'd get upset, and you'd kill them, and we'd have that many less people on our side. Despite what you may think, Malak," She turned to glance at him. "People are _not _dispensable like that."

Malak looked a bit unappreciative at being chastised, and took a good look at the instrument Revan was currently trying to apply to the wires of her droid.

"Revan, no—"

_CRACK!_

The wires snapped, sparkling around her. Her hand shot backward and she took a few steps back. The blood-red droid slumped to the ground and caught fire.

_Damn._

"That was _not _what you wanted to do." Malak said through his laughter. Revan growled, kicking the ruined mess.

"Oh, well," She sighed. "I didn't really like the name HK-14, anyway."

**XXXXX**

Kreia—also called Traya—sat behind her, this time, in the dimly lit room. She sat with her legs crossed and her hood strategically over her eyes. She'd been obsessed lately with using the Force to see. She said she looked more frightening with her hood on, and couldn't use her eyes to see when she had.

"I still don't see why you want a droid." Kreia commented to Revan, who knelt down to work on the standing droid's calf-wirings.

"Is it too much to ask that I want someone—or some_thing_—that understands me and will do what I want without me having to explain it?" Revan groaned. "I mean honestly, I _am _kind of alone, now. I need someone on my side, and at this point I couldn't care less if they were organic or not."

"You have me."

"Not totally," Revan answered. "You still have Brother. Your time is full of him."

Kreia pushed her hood back to reveal brown, natural eyes. "Darth Sion is not exactly the ideal student. He is nothing to what you were."

"And yet he's still one of the Sith Lord's I'm commanding." She turned to Kreia. "Kree, I count on you and Brother for my plans. I need the both of you to _get along _and work together until we're finished with what we're fighting."

"And then you'll kill us."

Revan's expression softened. "I'll kill _him_, because he's truly fallen. And I won't have anyone threatening my Republic."

"That and he's attacked you many times."

Revan shrugged. "That's more jealousy than power. If he wants to beat me up for being a better student than he is, I'll let him bat me around for a bit before kicking him into the ground."

"Hmm…." Kreia rubbed his chin. "And what of me?" Kreia stood, wandering over to the new HK droid and looking it up and down. She knew Revan wanted to complete it by herself, so she refrained from laying a hand on it.

"You don't _look_ evil." Revan replied.

"Are you so sure?"

"Kree," Revan sounded exasperated. "Would you try and kill me and take my power?"

"You know I never would." Kreia answered, sitting herself down cross-legged beside the new HK unit and sighing. "But that's because you're the most important thing in the galaxy to me. If you were someone else, however, you honestly don't see me being hostile and trying to use you to my own ends?"

Revan thought about it. She'd never been on Kreia's bad side, although there had been a few times when she'd been very close. Kreia was usually very supportive of her decisions, whether or not the Jedi Council was. If she were someone else, would Kreia really abandon her for someone else? What would happen if she were actually on her own in this? She didn't—

A large _crack _startled Revan, and she leapt back from the HK unit as it caught fire and fell to the side opposite of Kreia.

Revan kicked the HK unit.

"_Damn it!"_

"Temper, temper, Revan." Kreia smirked. "Looks like you'll have to start over."

Revan groaned. Now that she thought about it, "HK-39" didn't sound that awesome, either.

**XXXXX**

One more bolt….

There. Revan stepped back carefully, examining her creation. Hopefully she did it right. She flipped the switch on the inside of it using the Force and turned it on.

The eyes lit up, a bright yellow and it stood.

"Statement: HK-47 is ready to serve, Master."

Revan beamed and hugged her creation.

**XXXXX**

Revan led HK-47 into the room, laughing at Malak, who was beating up a few Dark Jedi, attempting to teach them how to fend him off.

"Go away, you insufferable ingrates." Revan ordered. The Dark Jedi immediately jumped up and left.

"What is it?" Malak asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Revan insisted. "In fact, everything is great!"

Malak raised an eyebrow. "Great how?"

"I would like to introduce you to HK-47. H, this is Malak." Revan stepped to the side, so the two could see each other.

Malak took in the sight of the all-red, intimidating assassination droid and sighed.

"You finally finished it. So what does it do?"

"Answer: I am a protocol droid made by my Master to serve and protect her."

Malak crossed his arms. "So you're an assassin droid."

"Answer: Of course not, sentient. I am a loyal, law-abiding droid."

Malak nodded approvingly. "You gave it a smart mouth. That's just like you." He rolled his eyes. "Someone has a new best friend."

"Nonsense." Revan replied, wandering over to the weapons stacked on the sidelines of the battle room and scanning over them.

Malak turned to the droid. "So, HK-47. What do you think of the galaxy so far?"

"Appropriate Answer: Having been activated only an hour ago, and seeing that I've only seen two sentients in that time, I can't give you a full answer."

"Very well. What do you think of the two of us?" Malak motioned to Revan, who picked up a vibroblade and used the Force to bend it.

"Expected Answer: You are both very different in stature and the way you hold yourselves."

Malak frowned. "Why did you say _expected _answer?"

"Honest Answer: You would not be very happy with my comparisons, or my 'thoughts' of the Master and you."

Malak crossed his arms. "Try me."

"Yes, tell us." Revan strode over to the two of them and grinned. "I'm in a good mood. I want to be amused."

The assassin droid stared at the two of them for one long moment before continuing. "Honest Answer: The Master is a very strong, reliable, forceful leader who expects people to do what she tells them to, the moment she tells them. I have no doubt that her ruthless behavior is doubled or possibly tripled when in the face of battle. Anxious Retort: I would be very interested in seeing that, sometime soon."

Revan laughed. "Isn't he the greatest? Can I make them, or _can I make them_?" Malak rolled his eyes.

"And what about me?"

"Yeah, what about Malak?"

"Answer: Having been in the presence of Master's Apprentice for no longer and one hundred forty point three-five seconds, I cannot say much."

"Tell us what you have learned in your one hundred forty point three-five seconds of life in the same room as dearest Malak," Revan sounded extremely amused. The HK droid made a move that looked a lot like a shrug.

"Blunt Answer: Master's Apprentice Malak is a meatbag."

Malak's eyes widened as Revan burst into laughter. She clutched her sides and guffawed loudly, nearly bringing herself to her knees. She knew if the situation got any worse she'd be crying.

"Oh?" She managed through the giggles. "And what is a meatbag?"

HK-47 wasn't under the impression that he'd said something funny. "Definition: A meatbag is a sentient being like yourself, comprised mostly of water. Eager Inquiry: Can you not _hear _yourself sloshing around everywhere? Surprised Interjection: I'm surprised that you beings have any balance at all!"

That was it. Revan hit the ground, tears streaming out of her eyes. Malak clamped his hands into fists and they shook menacingly.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Shocked Reply: Of _course _I'm not, Master's Apprentice Malak! I would _never _mock someone so close to the Master's heart."

At this point the room's doors opened and Kreia rushed through, making a beeline for Revan, who was still on the ground laughing so hard she turned red. Kreia grasped her shoulders and pulled her into a sitting position.

"And what has tickled your fancy this time, dear one?" Kreia asked, a smirk in her voice.

"He—they—HK—" Revan erupted into more laughter as she recalled the conversation.

"It wasn't funny." Malak seethed. Revan gasped for breath, biting her tongue to stifle the laughter.

"It was _hilarious_." She replied. "I'm fixing him to say that permanently."

Malak's eyes widened further. "You are not!"

"I am!" Revan stood, occasionally letting a small chuckle escape.

"So," Said a cold voice from the doorway. "It seems that Sister can't hold her tongue any longer, especially now that she has a droid around to speak her mind when she can't."

Revan looked up and glared at Darth Sion. "Brother." She nodded to him. "I'd love to let you throw insults at me all day, you know, but you've got work to catch up on, and I still have a few glitches to work out of HK." She smirked at an idea that suddenly popped into her head.

"Honestly, aren't you still trying to use your Force Sight?" She glanced at Kreia, who nodded an affirmation. "I was _miles _ahead of you when I was your age."

Darth Sion—in the early stages of his graying and cracked skin—shouted in rage and stormed out.

**XXXXX**

"No, General Flint!" Revan screeched from behind her mask, swiping her hand across the other man's face roughly. "You were _not _ordered to attack that planet!"

"Madam, forgive me. My Lord, someone _did _tell us to attack. I received the orders ten hours ago, My Lord." The pitiful man bowed endlessly. Revan groaned and Force Pushed him onto his back.

"_Who _told you to attack Telos? _Who_? I'll tear them to pieces."

"Admiral Karath said he received the order from Lord Malak, to prove that he was on our side." The man stood once again and kept bowing. "If I at any moment had known that you would not have approved of such a move, I would have called off the attack immediately."

Revan crushed a pillar next to her; crumbling it to the ground and making sparks fly everywhere.

Of _course _Malak had been the one to ruin her plans. Of _course _that power-hungry, psychotic maniac would be the one to try and cripple the Republic beyond repair. Honestly, even if she _wanted _to take over the galaxy she still wouldn't have attacked Telos. It would take _years _to recover from that. Not to mention the body count and how the Jedi perceived them.

They were now an open threat to the Jedi, not just a troublesome group of outcasts trying to change things to their view.

Revan sighed out a moan and waved a hand in the air. "Get out." She ordered.

"Ma'am, I beg your forgiveness. If anything—"

"_Get out!"_

The man fled.

Great. _Now _what was she going to do? Trust Malak to make it as hard as possible for her. She had to come up with a completely new plan now, so try and balance out what had happened. She'd have to rush some of her plans.

"HK-47!" She screamed. The droid was by her side in instants.

"Inquiry: You called, Master?"

"I did." Revan snarled. "It looks like Malak has done something stupid… again. We're going to have to accelerate our plans."

HK's fingers flexed on his blaster. "Response: Understood, Master. Would you like me to dispose of the irritating meatbag?"

Revan choked out a laugh which chilled even her. Maybe she was steeping herself too deeply in the Darkness for her own good. Wasn't there a man long ago that warned her of dabbling in such a dangerous place? She would have to pull out of it sooner or later.

"No," Revan replied. "Unfortunately, I have to keep him around for a little longer. He still has a use, and it's rather hard to find someone so devoted to me as him."

"Understood. Query: What was it you would like me to do, Master?"

"I want you to go on those missions I gave you last."

HK-47 paused. "Confused Query: _All _of them, Master?"

"Yes, H. All of them. Or rather," She pulled out her lightsabers, which she had changed to red for her disguise, and twirled them around her fingers. "As many of them as you can."

"Concerned Accusation: Master, are you well? Observation: You look considerably paler than normal. Determination: I will have the proper authorities raise the temperature at once!"

Revan held up a tired hand. "That's fine, H. You don't have to do that. I'm just worried." She sat on the ground roughly and lay on her back, watching the cold, metal tiles. "The Star Forge is working correctly, and I've been extremely successful in keeping what it _really _does away from everyone, _especially _Malak. I don't want to suck the Dark Side out of living creatures; I need it to influence people to our side, so we can overthrow whatever danger is out there while holding off the Jedi."

HK nodded. "Encouragement: You may continue if you so deem, Master. I will listen."

"Well…. I feel like the time is growing closer. We're going to have a confrontation soon, one that will change everyone's lives. And I can't see if it will be for good or not." Revan shuddered. "I want you to get as much done as possible before that moment comes. If you work fast enough, you'll return in time and be able to help me."

HK nodded. "Understood, Master."

"Good." Revan stood and clapped HK on the shoulder. "Go ahead and wipe your memory, and I'll have you shipped off to Coruscant."

**XXXXX**

"**My Lord! We've been infiltrated!"**

Revan groaned. "For the love of—by _who_?"

"**The Jedi!"**

Static.

Revan swore. This is what she'd been feeling all along. It was happening, and her droid wasn't back yet. He'd have to get along without her somehow.

Oh well. For some reason, the thought didn't scare her as much as she thought it would.

She clicked off her comm. link and looked out the window to the ship beside her, the _Leviathan_. If anything, she could get across to that ship and escape before anything bad happened.

**XXXXX**

Connan blinked.

It really shouldn't have surprised her, having a vision about HK-47. After all, she _had _been the sole creator. Now that she thought about it, she could feel the indignation sticking up at people thinking she needed help _building _something.

And yet, the memories of a Darth Sion—Brother, she had called him—was new. Who was that man? Obviously he'd been one of Kreia's new apprentices, but so what? Why would he hate her so much? Did she do something to him? Was he even still alive?

These were questions that she really wasn't into answering for the moment. She wanted to sleep. It hadn't been a very long memory, so her eyes weren't nearly as bad as they could have been. It was pretty late, though, and she was in the process of heading for bed when the certain memory struck her.

_Oh, well, _she thought as she snuggled into the sheets of her cot. _I'll figure things out tomorrow_.

**XXXXX**

**Time/Date Finished: 4/24/08 3:01 PM Central Time**

**End Notes: I wanted to finish this chapter early, since tomorrow we'll be super busy and the whole week after that is TAKS, and I'll have three weeks to type two more chapters. I have five more minutes in this class, so I sort of rushed the ending, but who hasn't done that?**

**I just wanted to let you guys know that I probably won't be able to finish this in time for the end of school. I have a week of TAKS ((snarls)) and a week of Band Trip, where we're going to San Antonio and stuff for a few days. I'll be gone over the four-year anniversary on , so I'm pretty bummed about that. I'll probably write a slash for it or something.**

**Have a good week, guys, and I'll update next when I can! I **_**finally **_**got a new flash drive, those of you who have read ****Attack of the Clones**** and know what I'm talking about, so I'll be able to take them from school to home, if I ever talk my teacher into letting me use it. He doesn't let us, for some reason. ((choke))**

**Oh well. Please review!!**

_**Amme Moto**_


	8. The Astromech

**Time/Date Started: 4/29/08 2:19 PM Central Time**

**Author's Notes: We're supposed to be testing all day today, but the principal got stupid and made us go to classes, too. What fun. So among other things, I'm pressed for time to finish these last two chapters before the end of school (five weeks, can I do it?)**

**Not only that, but one of my friends decided to paint my nails, so I had to wait a whole ten minutes to touch the keyboard, lest I get paint all over it. This is really annoying; she used the same color as the **_**last **_**time, and that stuff was **_**ugly.**_

**Once again, this chapter will not be very long. The last one was surprisingly longer than I expected, but then again I wasn't really aiming for something short; I can't stand a chapter if it's less than ten pages. Candorous' should be long. Don't worry.**

**Someone broke my other computer in the school. I'm on a new computer now, so I have to fix all the spelling mistakes and stuff again. **_**Damn it.**_

**Oh well. Nothing better to do.**

**Chapter Eight: The Astromech**

"Ummm…."

"Come on, Donella. Learning Astro is easier than this."

"Uh…."

"Don't think. Just tell me what you think he said."

"I _can't_, Revan…."

Revan sighed. "Yes you can. What do you think he said?"

Donella groaned. "Something about finding the three-fouths wrench."

Revan nodded, ruffling up Donella's hair and laughing at the outraged cry it received. "I _said _you could do it."

Donella gawked, placing her blonde hair back into place. "That was _right_?"

"That was the gist of it."

Donella beamed. "Well that wasn't so hard." She earned a slap on the back of the head. "Hey! What was that for?"

"After all you put me through, you're saying that wasn't _hard_? That was like pulling Zakkeg teeth!"

"Well at least I know what I'm doing now." Donella answered. "The rest of the language should be easy to figure out, now that I've got the basics, anyhow."

Revan nodded to her. Then she turned to the small utility droid and waggled her finger at it.

"Come on, little droid. We have others to teach."

**XXXXX**

"Revan dear; I didn't know you could speak Astro." Kreia watched as Revan herded the droid down the hallway.

"I just learned the other day." Revan replied. "I thought it wasn't very fair that the mechanics could speak it but the Jedi couldn't."

"Ah." Kreia nodded. "It seems like someone's been talking to the Zabrak with the floating sphere."

"I have." Revan answered. "And I didn't like that he could do something I couldn't. Other than the obvious, of course." She sighed. "I'd like to build a droid someday."

"Revan, you can't tell a hydrospanner from a hyperdrive."

"Of course I can!" Revan cried, abashed. "Hyperdrives are stuck to the ship."

Kreia groaned. "And what of this droid?" She asked, pointing to the small, silvery droid. "What is it?"

"It's a utility droid." Revan answered. "I had Nall's apprentice Janice on Taris make him for me. His name is T3-M4."

The small droid beeped its greeting.

"If I recall," Kreia leaned down to pat the droid on the head. "Janice Nall is no more than thirteen years old. Barely older than Mission."

"Yes, well, while Mission was good at breaking and entering, the little Nall is great at making droids." Revan beamed. "She even showed me how she made him, as a favor for introducing her to the Hidden Beks before we left."

"And what is he installed with?"

Revan opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a whoop followed by a series of beeps and clicks. She turned her attention to the droid and squinted.

"He said he's good at fixing things, and his knowledge of computers and slicing is better than that of any other droid."

"He's very cocky for a droid," Kreia raised an eyebrow. "How long have you had him?"

"Couple weeks."

"And how many memory wipes has he had?"

T3-M4 beeped apprehensively.

"You know what?" Revan beamed. "I don't think I'm going to give him _any _memory wipes. He seems loyal enough. And who knows? I might need every single bit of information I can ever get my hands on at one point."

Kreia huffed. "What a time that would be. I don't think I can picture you wandering around, not knowing what to do or who you are, Revan dear."

Revan smirked and shook her head. "Me neither."

**XXXXX**

"And _why _do I need to learn Machine?"

"It's _Astro, _Malak, and you need to learn it because it makes you smarter." Revan insisted. "And if Donella can learn it, you can."

"_Donella _learned it?"

The T3 unit began whooping again.

"What did he say?" Malak asked.

"He said not to underestimate Donella. She's smarter than she looks."

"Well, good for her." Malak grinned. "Why can't I get _her _to translate for me?"

"Because," Revan sighed. "While _we're _at Serrocco, looking over the damage and freeing the slaves and prisoners there, she'll be at Dxun and make a camp out of sight. We will start the war there. We'll meet up and start the war there." She explained. "And I can't have _you _away with _her_. I'll get jealous."

Malak rubbed his jaw. He seemed to do that whenever he was stressed. "You know I'm not the best at learning languages."

"It's easy. It's just like Morse Code in verbal form. And with words. Not letters."

"So it's _nothing _like Morse Code."

"You're very pessimistic."

T3-M4 beeped.

"T3 agrees."

"T3 can go disconnect himself for all I care."

"How rude!" Revan wrapped her arms protectively around the circular head of the droid. "Don't you listen to him. He didn't mean it."

Malak groaned. "What I can't understand is how you can be friends with machines better than you can be with people."

T3 once again embarked on a series of boops and beeps. Revan listened intently, with Malak staring at the droid as if he couldn't understand a word he was saying.

"Exactly!" Revan replied, patting the droid on the head. "That's exactly what I thought."

"What did he say?"

"Learn the language and I'll tell you what he said."

"No fair!"

**XXXXX**

Revan slammed her door shut, which should have been impossible because it was a mechanical door and could close on its own, but she managed it. She stomped into the room and upturned her desk. She threw all her datapads across the room and threw herself onto her cot.

It wasn't _fair._

There was no way she could accomplish _that_. Not with Malak. She knew him; he was weak. He would Fall at the first sign of temptation. And she would be utterly alone.

The Sith were coming. They were coming hard and fast. There was something in the Unknown Regions that was going to overrun the Republic as soon as the Mandalorian Wars were over. And the things she could to do stop it were slim.

She could try and reach out to the Jedi Council. She was a decorated War hero now, for her many victories for the Republic against the Mandalorians, but she was sure they wouldn't come to her aid. They'd insist that she brought this trouble upon herself, and they would only come into the fray when it was too late to react.

Or worse, they would capture her and judge her for what she did in the Wars, thereby disobeying them willfully, and convincing others to do it as well.

She'd been into the Unknown Regions, trying to find the problems herself, and ways to fix them. Of course she took her Revanchists with her—the Jedi who followed her insisted upon _that_ name—and asked them for help whenever needed. That's how she found the Sith threat, as a matter of fact. Now the problem was what to do about it.

Well, there was only one thing _to _do. It would take some time to accomplish it, some two or three years to finish her goal, and by then it would be too late to drop out and give up.

"T3?" She called. The door opened and her small little droid wheeled up to her, beeping its concern. "There are things I need to do. But I don't know if everyone will go along with it. I've already lost two or three people thanks to the War and Malachor, but if I lose too many other people, this whole thing will be useless."

The droid beeped once and prodded forward, nudging Revan's arm.

"I have to speak to the Revanchists." Revan decided. "And find out which ones will follow me into a pseudo-Dark Side appearance."

The little droid beeped at her, concerned. She stared at it while it spoke and shook her head when it finished.

"No, T3." She answered. "I don't know what's going to happen after that. I have to make the Republic think that _I've _turned to the Dark Side, and while they're busy fighting me, I'll be busy destroying the _real _threat while at the same time assassinating people who would ultimately hurt the Republic. But beyond that there's little else I know for sure."

The next few beeps Revan didn't have to translate. She knew what he was saying. _"You should try and see."_

Revan shrugged. "I guess…." She closed her eyes and concentrated.

The small clouds danced around her head again, like they had the first time she'd learned to look into the future, and she concentrated on what she should do for the future. A few of the clouds wafted forward and before they could scurry away she latched onto them.

She was on a beach planet. She knew it was her because of the long, comfortable cloak around her shoulders and the mask settled onto her face. She looked around the temple at the amphibian-like sentients surrounding her and Malak.

She stopped. Malak had a metal jaw. When did he get _that_?

_Later, _she reminded herself. She looked around as she and the amphibian-like aliens began conversing. She opened her mind and understood them.

"**So you will give us access to the Star Forge?" **Revan in the vision asked in the strange language. The aliens stared at her thoughtfully.

"**The Star Forge is a weapon of pure evil, constructed by our ancestors in their lust for power." **Said one of the taller aliens. **"Anyone wielding it would have unlimited power. There would be almost no one who could stand in their way without already being physically powerful."**

The Revan in the vision looked impatient, like she already _knew _that.

"**What we want is peace." **She replied. **"Any way possible."**

That seemed to be enough for the leader. He nodded. **"We will help you. Follow the others to the temple, and we will let down the force field to allow you in."**

Revan snapped out of that vision. All right, so she would research something called a Star Forge. And look into those strange aliens she was conversing with. She wondered what they were.

But what would she do with everyone? Should she keep all of her allies or send them off? She saw Malak with her, which meant that he was going to stick with her, which she appreciated more than she let on. But what about the others? What about T3?

Revan thought about her small droid, and the clouds bustled up to her. She grasped one.

The droid was hacking into a large door on Taris. Revan had seen the door in question many times before on her exploits there, but she'd never gone through it. Behind him stood an older version of her—though one that looked oddly _not _like her, with her arms crossed and an especially pissed-off look on her face. Next to her stood a man—the one she'd met with when she got lost at the beginning of the war? It was too long ago to remember—with his arms in a similar fashion. He glared at the wall next to him and seemed determined not to speak.

Revan let go. That wasn't what she needed. She needed something from _now_.

The clouds hovered for a moment, as if considering her request, and finally, one warily wafted forward. Revan snatched it before it could change its mind.

This vision was blurrier than others—particularly because it was probably so close to the present—and Revan had to squint to see what was going on. She was on Taris again, this time as herself, without her mask, and she was talking to the now thireen year old Janice Nall, with the utility droid next to her. After a few words, Revan patted T3 on the head and left. Janice Nall took a look at the rusted, worn-from-work droid and sighed, immediately getting to work on him.

Revan let go and opened her eyes. T3 beeped beside her, wanting to know what was going to happen.

Revan smiled. "You and I have some planning to do."

**XXXXX**

"**You're sure?"** Janice asked warily, staring at T3 as if it were a bomb. **"He's by far the best droid I've ever made. You're **_**sure **_**you don't want to keep it?"**

"Of course I want to keep it." Revan answered. "But he and I have talked things over, and he feels he'll be more help to _you _around _here_."

Janice shrugged. **"I suppose it's your choice. What's your price?"**

"My price is that you don't sell him until you absolutely _have _to." Revan instructed. "You're to keep him until selling him is the only option to staying alive."

Janice scoffed. She was pretty well off with her Master. They were the best droid-makers around, and everyone wanted her machines. How could she ever be low on funds, even for a Twi'Lek?

"**Deal."**

Revan turned to look at the little droid and pat its head.

"See you around, T3."

**XXXXX**

Connan tried to keep her eyes closed this time. Maybe they would simply start to water themselves quickly, instead of letting themselves dry out like they always did.

Well, _that _had been extremely weird. And here she always thought that Janice had constructed T3M4 for Davik Kang. She never knew she'd made the droid for Revan, and ended up selling it to the crime lord. It made her wonder.

Well, that was almost everyone, she counted off. The only one she hadn't had a full memory about was Candorous, and she couldn't be sure when the next one would appear. It had indeed been two months since her last memory about one of her friends, so she could never tell when something new would show up.

Oh, well. Connan stood shakily and made her way to the medbay. She would annoy Jolee for one of those disgusting potions, then go and bother T3M4 for information. Since they were still en route to Manaan, there was nothing much for them to do in the meantime anyway. Some shouting would do the _Hawk _good.

**XXXXX**

**Time/Date Finished: 5/5/08 2:57 PM Central Time**

**End Notes: Feliz Cinco de Mayo! I guess. By the by, tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday, so go ahead and wish me Happy Birthday in your reviews, even though it'll probably be posted weeks after the event.**

**Told you it would be short. Barely nine pages. I hate myself.**

**I had to rush the end. We're starting on something tomorrow in this class and I don't know when I'll finish it. And at least **_**now **_**I have five weeks to finish my work (which really shouldn't be too hard, knock on wood) and finish the last chapter. If I finish the last chapter before school ends, I promise you guys that I'll post it all during the summer. **

**Onto the last chapter!**

_**Amme Moto**_


	9. The Warrior

**Time/Date Started: 5/5/08 2:59 Central Time**

**Author's Notes: It's still Cinco de Mayo, and it's still the day before my birthday. I hope I get a lot of stuff.**

**Anyway, this is the last chapter, unless I decide to write one over the summer. I'm still deciding whether or not to put in a Defying Gravity II or something. I'll think on it.**

**Chapter Nine: The Warrior**

It took a _long _time to get this far.

It was true. It felt like decades, instead of just four years, to get into the final stages of the war. She remembered her first battle, across Dxun, where she had to ultimately pull back her troops and try again to just free the people of Onderon.

And now here she was, on the edge of Malachor V.

She took a step to one side, pacing in front of her fellow Jedi. The _Revanchists_, they called themselves. They looked up at her, pacing upon the stage, and gawked. She wasn't surprised. She was always very awe-inspiring when she was about to give a speech. They knew that whatever that was about to come out of her mouth would be glorious and moral-enhancing.

Revan didn't disappoint them.

"Fellow soldiers and Jedi," She started.

"_Revanchists_!" Someone shouted. The call took form, and soon everyone threw their fisted hands into the air, calling the name as if it was a lifeline.

"Revanchists," Revan corrected with mock-annoyance. "We have come quite a long way over the years, haven't we?"

A murmur fell through the crowds, and Revan shushed them. "When we started, we were a bunch of outcast Jedi and desperate soldiers trying to save their beloved Republic. And now? Now we are ending this war and declaring peace for our people!"

Another cry rose.

"Yes, there will be lives lost today." Revan explained, pacing around and surveying the determined faces looking at her. "There will be people on our side that will fall, both to the Dark Side and to death." Actually, many of the Revanchists had already fallen to the Dark Side; they just thought she couldn't sense it. "There are soldiers out there who will be lost to their families. There will be Jedi who are never heard from again."

There was silence as she continued. "But we will make sure that for ever Jedi fallen, for every soldier down, for every breech in rank we suffer, they suffer _tenfold_!"

The crowd screamed joyously.

"This will be the final resting place for the Mandalorians. This will be where they make their last stand. It will be a bloody fight, but we will take back the lands they've stolen from us. We will avenge those who had been captured or killed in the midst of battle. And _we will win_!"

The Revanchists began chanting her name. She crossed her arms, looking smug. "And who is going to defeat the Mandalorians?"

"_We are!"_

Revan grinned. "Good. Rest up! We attack at dawn!"

She turned and left the stage, meeting up with Malak backstage as she made her way off. She wanted to sleep before she would have to waste more lives.

"Humph." Malak growled. "As if anyone could tell when _dawn _was on this godforsaken planet."

**XXXXX**

As a matter of fact, _dawn _was only in five hours.

Revan sighed, rubbing her eyelids lazily as she lay down onto the bed. She threw her arms out to the sides and stared listlessly at the ceiling, spread-eagle. She blinked a few times and took a couple of deep breaths, watching the ceiling fan as it circled around itself.

So this was it. After this, the Mandalorians would be no more and the Sith would be forced to reveal themselves. Then she would lead the Revanchists into battle against them, and their Republic would be safe once and for all.

She had no idea why the Mandalorians had made Malachor V their last stand. It certainly was a desolate world, one that practically stank of the Dark Side. The moment Revan's ship doors opened to let her scout the area, she'd immediately stiffened and tried not to recoil.

Revan shifted and sat up, staring at the dark wall in front of her. She didn't know what was going to happen. The Force would not let her see the future. She didn't even know if they would be victorious or not, though she was confident enough to believe in her own skills.

It still scared her.

**XXXXX**

"All right," Revan pointed to the large screen behind her, and the point where her finger met the map turned green. "I want Admiral Sommos to take her fleets spaceward and stay hidden on the western hemisphere." She sent a hard glare toward the Admiral in question, who saluted. "You will stay over there until either you see blaster fire or you are told to do so."

"Yes, ma'am." The woman bowed.

Revan _hmm_ed. She didn't like Admiral Sommos that much. The woman was too concerned about what happened within the military than what happened to the war. The soldiers had been known to fight from time to time, and the Admiral was never happy that Revan just let it happen. Of course, Revan always stressed the point of unity, so there were never _many _fights among the soldiers, but she didn't see anything wrong with the military policing itself.

"Admiral Veltraa, I want you to take a larger fleet of airborne soldiers and meet the Mandalorians head-on in space." Revan continued, pointing to another section of the map. "I trust you to come up with your own strategy, which will at some point include Admiral Sommos and her troops when you signal them to join you." She frowned before adding, "and you will only call for Admiral Sommos when your flanks are about to break. Make the Mandalorians seem like they have the upper hand."

Admiral Veltraa saluted as well. "Of course, madam."

"Admiral Karath will accompany Malak, the Revanchists and I onto the planet itself, where Mandalore the Ultimate will be with his own special troops. While Malak and I lead the Revanchists against the Mandalorians, Admiral Karath will take the last fleet of troops through Malachor and complete a very special mission."

"My Lord?" Admiral Karath bowed, making Revan snarl. No one liked a suck-up. "What mission would that be?"

Good question. Revan ran a hand through her hair. "One of the mechanics was kind enough to construct for us the weapon that will make us capable of defeating the Mandalorians." She continued when everyone stared at her curiously. "We're going to blow Malachor V to pieces after we win."

There were shouts of surprise.

"My Lord, what about the people still on the planet?" Saul Karath asked, wide-eyed.

"Honestly, Admiral. If all you do is sit around and think of ways to flatter us, I'm surprised you're still alive. Will you _think _for once in your life?" Revan could feel Malak's stare burning into the back of her head. Malak liked Karath, and never appreciated it when Revan ripped his head off. "I have a plan."

"And what will that be, Revan dear?" Kreia asked from the side of the room.

"To be able to detonate this bomb, someone—or something—will have to be on the surface with it." She started. "I have asked the mechanic—this Bao-Dur—to construct a droid like his small sphere for this purpose. Once Mandalore the Ultimate has been defeated and the refugees and miscellaneous Mandalorians are taken care of, we shall vacate the planet as fast as possible. Admiral Karath will take the droid with him when he leaves with his fleet and will leave it behind when he returns."

"But…" Admiral Veltraa asked meekly. Revan nodded for him to continue. "But My Lord, why would we need to dispose of this planet once we've _won_?"

Revan was silent for a moment, choosing her words wisely before she continued. "Good question. The Mandalorians made this planet their base planet for a reason, Admirals." She started. "And I came here to find out what it was. When I stepped onto this planet, the Dark Side affinity was so strong it knocked me off of my feet and very nearly succeeded in dragging me into the Darkness with it.

"That was what the Mandalorians came for. They wanted to stay here so the Dark Side could make them strong enough for battle and they could win over us."

Admiral Veltraa chewed on his lower lip for a few seconds, and then opened his mouth to ask something else. "But isn't destroying a planet Dark Side in itself?"

Revan nodded to him, clearly impressed. "Someone's been reading up." She mentioned. "This new bomb is truly _new_, however; Bao-Dur did an excellent job on it. It is not used to destroy life, per se. It's meant to first disarm the planet. In layman's terms, this machine will be placed where the Force is the strongest, and will detonate there, destroying the strong Force affinity and thereby cutting it off."

"What kinds of repercussions are involved in this?" Kreia asked. Revan shrugged.

"Since we've never used something like this before, we can only assume the side effects." She explained. "It could be anything from temporary Force deafness to a large vacuum forming in space. Whatever happens, though," She looked around the room at all the faces. "Would you rather risk _that _than the chance for the Mandalorians to become as strong as they are now?"

The faces brightened. "That's brilliant, ma'am." Admiral Sommos gawked.

Revan sighed. "Yes." She answered. "Now all we have to do is survive."

**XXXXX**

Revan paced back and forth as the Mandalorians came nearer and nearer. Using the Force she took count of the lives walking toward danger. There were at least a thousand of them, but they were traveling with their camp altogether. Perhaps only two thirds of those were soldiers.

They were running straight for them.

"Kill only those who try to kill you." Revan yelled behind her. She counted off twenty people in her mind and Force Pushed them slightly so they'd pay attention to their assignment. "Those I just nudged will guard the pass over there, where the Admiral just went along with his troops. You are to remain hidden and wait for stragglers to come along and take care of them. If they send a battalion over toward you, fight them off. Do _not _let them through that canyon."

The twenty or so people nodded, eyeing the valley in question. It was a small thing, only large enough for four or five people in a row to fit through at a time, but for some reason Revan had sent a lot of people in that direction with an important mission. If they were given a job to protect the pass, they would do it.

Revan then looked onto the rest of her people. "Jedi will make a frontal assault!" She called. The Jedi let their lightsabers loose and raised them into the air, calling out. Revan had to shout to be heard over them. "You will deflect any and all blaster shots from the soldiers while you're making your way to the Mandalorians. Once you're into their ranks, your jobs are to eliminate as many as possible before they eliminate you."

When the ranks were silent again Revan continued. "You will leave Mandalore the Ultimate for me."

This caused more ruckus than the previous statement had. Everyone burst into cries, blasters were thrown into the air, and the teeming mass surged forward impatiently.

"They're not in range yet; stay still!" Revan called. "Let _them _fire the first shot."

On Revan's right stood Malak, who already had his saber out and crushed between his hands. He kept his face squarely on the approaching Mandalorians. His eyes were slightly narrowed in concentration. Revan knew he would do a good job in battle.

On Revan's left stood Donella, otherwise known by the troops as The General. She held one orange saber in her left hand and one violet in the other. She stood with her arms down at her sides, and she stared calmly at the battle coming before her. The windy planet pulled her blonde hair behind her and whipped it around viciously. Her hard blue eyes surveyed the Mandalorians calmly.

Revan wondered if she was the only one inwardly freaking out. Her grips on her two blue sabers shifted constantly. She hated the wait for battle. She was fine in the hours before the battle, when there were planning and last-minutes emergencies to keep her occupied. She was also fine during the battle, because her thoughts were solely on surviving and completing her mission (and besides, she was of the mindset _survive now, panic when it's over_) and her mind had no room for worrying about what was to come.

Now, though, when they had nothing to do but wait until the fated minute came, she would start to think.

After this battle, the Mandalorian Wars would be over. After that, they would go in search of the Sith and she would be able to find them and make sure they never harm her Republic again. She'd been reading up on the war with Exar Kun, so she had a rough idea on what to expect when the time came. She intended to pull up every Jedi still loyal to her and drag them all to the Unknown Regions with her, where they would once and for all find the Sith threat and destroy it.

Revan was pulled out of her thoughts by a small red laser flashing by her head. She cocked her head to the other side and let the blaster shot roll past her.

The result was instant.

The Jedi leapt up as fast as they could and heaved themselves into the midst of battle, Revan, Malak, and Donella among them. They held their lightsabers tightly and slashed at the oncoming Mandalorians, determined to stop them in their tracks.

As what usually happened, Revan couldn't see her own hands. She saw an enemy in the corner of her eye and the next moment her lightsaber was upon them and their life was over. She didn't look at what she was doing or who she was killing. Such things only slowed people down, and she was _not _in a position to be slowed down.

A small chirp came from her comm. link and she flicked it on in the middle of battle. She shouted over the ruckus around her for whoever called her to talk.

"**My Lady," **It was Admiral Veltraa. **"We have met face-to-face with the Mandalorians. We are holding as fast as we can. Some of our troops keep disappearing over toward the other side of the planet, where Admiral Sommos is waiting for them. We will pull back in full once the Mandalorians think we're lost and running, and ambush them within the hour."**

Revan smirked. "Good." She ducked a vibrosword and slashed at another Mandalorian, who fell instantly. "Our side is doing well, too. Call me when you meet up with Admiral Sommos' troops."

"**Yes, Ma'am."**

A large roar tore through the Mandalorians, and she watched them as they raised their blasters and pulled their vibroswords out threateningly. Revan kicked one Mandalorian backward and slashed at one next to her, who blocked her attack and threw her backward.

Revan huffed. This Mandalorian wasn't Mandalore. How could he have thrown her down? She must have been more tired than she thought she was.

She leapt back up and in an instant their swords connected again. She swished her free hand through the air and used the Force to tear the man's helmet off.

"With such a good opponent, it's only fair that we should see each other's faces, don't you agree?" She asked the man.

The man looked a bit older than her, as most Mandalorians did, but he couldn't have been any older than thirty, really. His hair was already graying, and he had wrinkles forming down his face, but Revan put that to the strain of war instead of old age. His steel grey eyes bored into hers, and she could tell he was impressed with her. He whirled his vibroblade around experimentally and smirked.

"All right, short stuff," The Mandalorian smirked at her flushed face. "Have it your way."

He lunged.

Revan lunged too, clearly insulted at the name. She was _not _short! She was taller than Donella, anyway, and that woman was too short for her own good. And she was _extremely_ taller than Master Vandar, who insisted that he was not _small _but _lethal sized_.

Anyway, she blocked the Mandalorian's attack and made one of her own, twisting around backward to strike awkwardly at his side. He blocked it, and as his foot came up to knock her over, she grabbed a hold of it and twisted back to her original spot, tripping the Mandalorian and flooring him.

Revan pointed her saber downward and thrust strongly at the Mandalorian's stomach. The Mandalorian rolled out of the way and Revan's lightsaber met with the hard, black rock that created the surface of Malachor V. She retracted it quickly and opened it just in time to stop another attack. She pushed the Mandalorian backward and snorted.

"You're very good." She remarked.

"So are you." The Mandalorian slashed at her, and she side-stepped the attack. "If you had been a Mandlorian, we would have been even more invincible."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mandalorian." Revan replied. Her saber scorched the side of his armor where she intended to slice him but barely hit the mark. Grey eyes widened in surprise.

"It won't?" He thrust his shoulder onto Revan's, knocking her off balance and onto her back. "What a shame."

Revan kicked her legs in the air hard enough for her body to follow, and she collided with the Mandalorian's chest, making him collapse onto the floor.

"It looks like I've _finally _got a challenge from the people who have been effectively destroying the Republic." She taunted before slamming her saber into his chest. The Mandalorian frowned before he parried and got up from the ground.

"Don't mock us." He warned slowly.

Revan frowned as well. This sounded strangely familiar.

"I—" She squinted at the Mandalorian in front of her, trying to recall where the strange familiarity had come from. "I'm the farthest _from _mocking."

Suddenly the memory came back to her, one of the first battles she participated in with the Revanchists with her, on the planet Taris, and the confrontation with the leader of the Mandalorians there. What was his name again? Candy? Carto?

"Your name." She demanded.

The Mandalorian's eyes lit up, and his smirk turned into a grin. "Mine for yours."

"Damn," Revan swore. She would have to guess. Before she could call out the name _Cardest,_ the words flowed from her mouth. "Force, Canderous, I would have thought you _knew _my name by now."

The Mandalorian—Canderous, it seemed—took a large bow. "Indeed I do, Revan. I _knew _not every Jedi was as good as you are, or we would have lost long ago."

Revan nodded to him, once again throwing her saber at him. He dodged and bolted backward, forcing Revan to pursue.

"Didn't I tell you that we would win?" She asked, stopping in front of him and connecting their swords.

"You haven't won yet, short stuff."

There was an abrupt stop in their battle for their lives, as the ongoing fight paused enough for one voice to reign over the silence.

"_Revan!"_

Revan knew that voice. She'd heard it many times, when she'd been face-to-face with his army at times much like these. She could hear the malice in his voice, as if he knew what was coming, too. He knew that when she and he met again, it would be for the last time.

Revan vs. Mandalore; it was time for one of them to die.

She swore. Revan looked around her and flicked her comm. link on one more time.

"Talk to me, Admiral Veltraa."

There was static for a moment before someone else replied.

"**He's gone, my Lady." **Revan heard. **"Destroyed right before Admiral Sommos came to our aid."**

Revan growled. "And who are you?"

"**I'm—well, now I suppose I'm **_**Admiral **_**Jenks."**

Revan snickered. She liked her Admirals with a bit of humor. "And how are you faring?"

"_**Faring**_**, My Lady?" **Admiral Jenks asked. **"We've already won!"**

Revan looked pleased. "Good. Stay in the air. Do _not _come down to the planet."

"**Yes, ma'am."**

"Hello?" Canderous made a slash at her waist, making her side-step in the nick of time. She'd forgotten all about him. "I'm still here, you know." The Mandalorian recoiled at the look she gave him.

"Let's fix that."

Revan smashed her hilt into Canderous' head, and kicked savagely at him, knocking him backwards. He slumped to the ground, completely knocked out.

"You're worthy of my respect, Mandalorian," She said to the unconscious man. "If you survive this battle, we'll let you live along with the other survivors. I'm sorry for blind sighting you, though. I'm even sorry for leaving in the middle of our fight. But there are bigger pests to kill."

Revan gave a ceremonial bow and bolted toward the forming crowd.

**XXXXX**

Revan leapt over a forming group of Jedi and landed swiftly in the middle of a circle. The Revanchists and Republic soldiers formed one half of the Circle of Death, and the other half consisted of Mandalorians—or what was left of them.

It seemed to Revan that she had picked her battles well. Her troops were alive and still ready to destroy the threat to their homes, while the Mandalorians were far and few between. The ones that were left looked ragged and worn out, but in their vigor for battle they'd shed their helmets and fought head-on.

The Mandalorians spread apart as a broad-shouldered man stepped through them, and for one horrifying second, Revan felt much like she had when Kreia found her at age four, cramped inside a barrel with a broken leg and no food to show for it. Mandalore hadn't even the respect to take off his helmet and fight her face-to-face, like Canderous had, and that made his seem all the larger.

In a matter of seconds Revan shook off her fear of the man. It didn't matter if she was terrified in the midst of battle, though she knew she would chide herself for it later. She knew that her Republic would need her to be lucid to win this battle.

"Why, Mandalore, you won't even take off your helmet? How disrespectful." Revan taunted, twisting her sabers through the air.

"No," The man seethed. "I don't think I will."

And the battle started before Revan could think. Mandalore tried to use the element of surprise and leapt forward threateningly, slashing with his vibroblade. Revan lurched backward, blocking with her own saber.

Something hit Revan on the top of her head as she whirled around to meet her foe. It began to rain. The black earth began to darken impossibly, and the air began to blend into the ground, and Revan felt like she was literally walking in darkness.

Mandalore was upon her before she could think properly. She was knocked backward onto the ground, and her hair was soaked with mud and water.

The soldiers around her cried out for her to get up. The Mandalorians all shouted praise to their leader. Revan heaved herself up and started again.

She tackled Mandalore with her shoulder, not knocking him over but at least driving him back. While he was still stumbling from the impact she whirled around behind him and kicked his knees inward. Mandalore cried out and fell to the ground.

"Your armor won't do you much good now, will it?" Revan asked, having to shout over her soldiers to be heard. They'd erupted into screams when they saw her rise again.

The frustrated Mandalore scrambled back up and drove a fist forward. Revan hadn't been expecting his; Mandlore still had his sword with him and wouldn't need to use his fists for quite some time. She barely got her hands up in time before she felt his fists drive into her open palms.

Revan grunted as she pushed back on the Mandalorian leader, and soon it became a match of strength. Revan knew she would lose. A woman is innately weaker than a man, Revan knew, though she would never admit to anyone. That's why women had to resort to more clever ways of victory.

Revan focused the Force onto Mandalore the Ultimate. She worked on driving his hands away from her and also to propel him into the air. She closed her eyes. This would end here and now.

Mandalore was a strong, bulky man. Pushing his hands away from her using the Force was hard enough to make her want to concentrate as hard as she could, but making the man fly into the air would hurt. She closed her eyes and sent an unchecked burst of Force energy toward Mandalore.

The man flew into the air.

Revan acted quickly. She called her saber to her and leapt into the air, and in one fell swoop, touched back down.

Mandalore's head landed with her.

There was silence on both sides, as the stunned warriors and enraptured soldiers stared at the heaving eighteen year old, listening to the rain, waiting for her orders.

Revan stared into the sky, watching the rain fall and feeling the droplets land on her exhausted face. She liked the cool sensation. It added to a few others she had.

They were finished. They'd _won_.

Revan took many deep breaths before finally speaking. "Gather all the surviving Mandalorians."

The result was instant. Soldiers scrambled every which way, overpowering the Mandalorians and taking away their weapons. Soon all of the Mandalorians left alive were camped out in front of Revan, on their knees with their hands behind their heads.

Among them, Revan was glad to note, was the man from the clan Ordo. Canderous glared at Revan openly, insulted by having been struck out by a teenager while his back was turned. She gave him a weary smile and surveyed all the people.

Slaves and medics aside, there were about seventy warriors staring her in the face, their expressions mixed with rage and awe. Revan had to find something to do with them all.

She took a long breath so she could be heard by everyone. "Your Basilisk War Droids will be dismantled," She called. "Your weapons and armor are to be handed over to Republic officials."

She had to stop for a moment as the Mandalorians griped about their punishment.

"You have one hour to get off of the planet. You will not _follow _each other; only two ships in each direction." Revan ordered. "Our soldiers will be keeping watch of you. If you go _anywhere _near the Republic you will be shot down." Revan unleashed a bit of her power, sending a powerful wave of Force through the Mandalorians and flooring them. "If I hear of any kind of war stirring up again, you _will _be eliminated totally and completely. I will not tolerate such danger twice."

She glanced around, and turned to Malak standing behind her. A cut on his face ranged from the top of his head to his chin, and he was sweating. She leaned over to him.

"Make sure Admiral Karath and his troop have returned from their mission, then make sure all the Jedi get onto the ships. The soldiers and I will watch the Mandalorians."

Malak nodded and left.

**XXXXX**

It took major control not to bolt up the ramp of her ship and kiss the cold, metal floor. She'd never been so glad to see her ship before. The planet's Dark Side power had been getting to her for a while, and she was growing irritable by the moment. When she stepped onto the ship, the Dark Side feeling went away, and she was left with nothing but simple happiness that the war was _over_.

But she controlled herself and made a beeline for the cockpit. It took her a while, because she had to stop and converse with people and accept thanks and congratulations and generally be nice to everyone. She spotted Donella Segora and motioned for her to follow.

Revan and Donella entered the cockpit and found Malak, who was barking orders to people. He stopped when he saw Revan advancing.

"Revan, Admiral Karath arrived back with his troop ten minutes ago, and the surviving Mandalorians are all shipping out every which way."

Revan nodded. "Good. Get me Bao Dur. I instructed the mechanic to stay on the main level, so check there first." An officer near her bowed and left to do her bidding. "We've got a planet to destroy."

Revan sighed, rubbing one of her arms with the other. So the war was over, wasn't it? All the Mandalorians were scattered about the galaxy at this point, and they were now a weak and greedy people. There would be few of them now worth their salt. They would end up being mercenaries, thugs, or end up as plain raiders.

Revan's thoughts were suddenly switched to Canderous Ordo. She'd been on the planet long enough to have him pass her by, and she made sure to point him in the direction of Taris.

"_Taris is a place where the oppression is high," _she remembered saying. _"The minorities are subjugated by the humans, and the Upper City is really the only sanitary place." _Then she'd laughed at Canderous' snarl, and his question of why he should care. _"There is a man on Taris, however. A Crime Lord. His name is Davik Kang. He will help you. It'll be a low job; the kills won't be honorable, but it'll be enough to keep you with credits."_

She'd seen the man's eyes flash contempt at her thinking he needed help, and then there was a small flicker of gratitude before he turned away and loaded into his shuttle.

She knew he would listen to her advice. He wasn't an idiot; he could see a good offer when it came to him. Her only problem was if she would ever see him again or not. Her insides told her she was, that there would be a time when they would rely on each other to survive, but she couldn't see how or when the time would come.

She hoped it would be soon. It wasn't every that she met someone he could compete that well with.

"My Lady?" Bao-Dur's small voice broke her concentration, though her back was turned to him. She gave a small, tired smirk.

"Bao-Dur, activate the little remote."

**XXXXX**

Connan felt a pair of arms on her shoulders before anything, and for a moment she wondered what the _hell _was happening. She lurched upward and gasped once, and finally her eyes refocused.

"Open your eyes, idiot. I've got to put these drops in."

Connan knew that gruff voice. She sat up fully and tried to glance around, blinking moisture into her eyes.

"What? I don't need that, there's a drink, it's better—"

"It's not." Canderous argued, standing up and hauling Connan over to a wall. "You haven't had anything to drink in hours, and after the workout you and I just had before that ironic little memory popped up, anything in your stomach besides water would just make you throw up."

Connan groaned.

"I know. Just open them. Don't make me go get your boy toy."

Connan then opened her eyes, but more to glare at him than to appease him. It didn't matter to Canderous; he dropped them in before she realized what he was doing. Connan cringed and sealed her eye shut again, trying to rub the dreadful drops out.

"Stop that." Canderous batted her hand away.

When Connan could finally open her eyes without blinking every three seconds, she glanced at Canderous. "I'm okay now."

"Good. I'd hate for your cute little play thing to come in, see me standing over you, think I'd killed you or worse, and attack me."

Connan ignored the pass at Carth, like she always did. She took Canderous' hand and stood up as quickly as possible, rubbing her eyes.

"I _hate _this." She whined.

"Well, I know I'm not the greatest warrior in the world yet, but that doesn't mean you have to hate our sparring matches." Canderous replied.

It took Connan a moment to get what he said. Then she snorted. "Funny. I _meant _I hate the memories."

Canderous stayed silent, waiting for Connan to continue her thought. That was probably why she liked him so much, she thought. He let her take her time in speaking, and he never spoke his opinion until she was done.

"Did you know I've seen memories of everyone here?" Connan asked. Canderous raised an eyebrow.

"I hadn't."

Connan scoffed, calling the two dropped vibroblades to her and setting them back on the table. She nodded to the Selkath guard and left the training room, expecting Canderous to follow. He did, of course.

"You were the last person, I've counted." Connan continued as they made their way back to Manaan's only good hotel. "It's very strange."

"It's not strange to me anymore," Canderous admitted. "Think about it. Back when we first joined up together on Taris, I thought you were nothing more than a soldier for the Republic with a great right-hook. You looked nothing like the Revan I met during the Wars. But the more your powers grew and the farther we got in our mission, the more you reminded me of her.

"Then the day came when you found out you _were _Revan, and I wasn't surprised at all. On the contrary, I was patting myself on the back for knowing so in advance."

"Thanks." Connan drawled. Canderous slapped her upside the head.

"Stop that." He ordered. "Anyway, ever since we've become a crew, so many seemingly _strange _things have happened that nothing should be surprising anymore."

Connan nodded. "You know, that makes sense."

"Damn right it does." Canderous opened the door for the hotel and turned to look down the other side of the hallway. "I think you'd want to go that way now." He pointed to the Republic Embassy.

"Why?"

"Because that's where Carth is." Canderous punched her playfully in the arm one last time and entered the hotel.

Connan turned toward the Embassy, thinking deeply. She thought so deeply that Carth put a hand to her forehead and took her temperature.

Connan smiled. She had everyone she needed with her now. She had people to argue with, people to agree with, people to fight, people to plot with, people to love. It was as if the Force had been providing for her even before she knew what was going to happen to them.

That was a happy thought.

So Connan sobered up enough to satisfy Carth, so he wouldn't drag her back to the _Ebon Hawk _and force Jolee into checking her up. She linked her arm with his and steered him in the direction of the Swoop Track.

"Why? You're only going to get into more fights," Carth groaned. "You're too good. You keep people thinking they can beat you, but you're just playing with them."

Connan had to focus on her legs and force them to keep moving. The irony was almost overwhelming. _The same could have been said for Revan, too_, she thought.

Connan laughed, flicking his nose. "Who knows? Maybe someday, I'll let them."

**XXXXX**

**Date/Time Finished: 5/29/08 3:04 P.M. Central Time**

**End Notes: WHOO I've finished!! With two minutes left in the period. Am I good or am I good? School ends next week, so ciao! I'll get started on Defying Gravity II when I can, and I might even call it something different.**

**I've been doing a lot of band stuff lately. Like, this whole week. I've been going out for Drum Major. For those of you who aren't band proficient, that means that I'd be leader for the next two years (since I'll be a junior next year). I'll come back sooner or later and tell you if I made it or not.**

**As always:**

_**Amme Moto**_


End file.
